After Eighteen
by jmts2012
Summary: My version of what happens after Explosive Eighteen. A deeper look into the relationships of the characters, drama, romance, angst with some humor.
1. Chapter 1

AFTER EIGHTEEN

This is my version of what happens after Explosive Eighteen. I am just having fun with Janet Evanovich's kids. I make no profit. It's Cupcake all the way for me. I like Joe maybe because I'm Italian too, and I read between the lines a lot. I don't hate Ranger and he will be involved in the story as well. Anyway, hope you enjoy it, I've got a plan in my head and it will be quite a few chapters long before it's over.

And a huge thanks to Carol, for doing the Beta reading and putting up with my aggravating tense issues and my comma crazy tendencies as well. Your writing inspires me! And I really appreciate your encouragement to post this story.

**Chapter One**

I watched Joe down Annie Hart's potion in one big gulp, my mouth gaping open as I saw the instantaneous change in his eyes. My God where had that look come from? He was smiling at me as if there was no tomorrow. There was no cop face or Mystery Man chiseled mask. It was just Joe—my Joe—the Joe I'd loved ever since I can remember.

"Um, Joe, how do you feel?" I asked.

He thought for a moment. "Better." He finally said. "Warm." His eyes got dark and soft, the corners of his mouth tipped into a smile. "Very, friendly."

"Come here Cupcake."

He pulled me into his arms and began to nuzzle my neck, and I realized how much I'd wanted to be right there in his embrace all along. I'd wanted him with me in Hawaii. He'd been my choice—my first and only choice. If only he'd come with me, the week in Hawaii with Ranger would have never happened. I wanted Joe, and I was becoming afraid maybe he didn't want me anymore. Maybe work was just an excuse. Ranger had been a temptation I'd been too weak to resist, but losing Joe over it—not having him in my life had never been an option.

He breathed into my neck, tickling it with his tongue. Butterfly-like kisses grazed my collarbone, and I felt weak in the knees.

"Joe don't you remember, I need to shower," I reminded him lamely.

"Steph, I wish you'd choose me. I wish you loved me. I love you so much. I want you. I need you—I've always needed you." Joe whispered the words in my ear, and I felt my Jiminy Cricket conscience and the overwhelming guilt I'd been pushing aside fill my brain. I didn't deserve this man. I'd never felt I did and, in that moment, I realized I truly didn't.

Morelli apparently didn't sense any of my doubt because he lifted me up into his arms and continued to bestow me with compliments and kisses. "You're so sexy—so sweet—so beautiful." He carried me toward the bedroom, and I felt as though my knight in shining armor was slaying the fire-breathing dragon that had tried to infiltrate my mind. All I could think of now was getting to our bed and making mad passionate love.

Joe's arms deposited me softly onto the bed, and, to my surprise, he turned away and walked to the bathroom. I could hear him turning on the shower.

"No, Joe, I can shower later. Come, back here."

He complied like a good Navy man, and gently pulled me up off the bed, with one arm around my waist, and led me into the bathroom.

His fingers popped open the buttons on my shirt, and I felt the soft caress of his hands as they reached around my back to undo my bra. Little shivers of anticipation coursed through my body.

I tried to grab for the buttons on his shirt, but he backed away, preferring to undo the zipper of my holey blood stained, jeans instead. Before I knew it, I was standing there naked. _Why was he_ _still fully dressed?_ By now we'd be at cruising altitude heading straight to orgasm heaven. Why not tonight?

I felt Joe's gentle hands guide me into the shower, and, to my shock, he knelt down outside the tub. He grabbed the washcloth from the rack, wetting it thoroughly, and I watched him tenderly clean the caked blood off my wounded knees. After he finished, he placed a tender kiss on each one. He'd gotten his hair wet and his shirt was plastered to his back.

I couldn't take my eyes off him as he stood there smiling at me as though he worshipped me. _Me? _Why on earth would anyone ever look at me like that? I didn't merit this kind of devotion. If Joe knew what I'd been doing in Hawaii, and before that, right here in Trenton behind his back, he'd never look at me twice. He'd hate me forever.

I felt his hands encircle my naked body, and I knew he was finished playing around. I was about to be totally ravished, and it was fine by me. To be able to lose myself in his arms again would be paradise compared to the ping-pong game of guilty recriminations that kept zipping back and forth in my head.

But there was no crazy monkey sex—at least not yet. He propelled me gently toward the showerhead, indicating without words he wanted me to wet my hair. I felt the warm stream of water going over the nape of my neck and the back of my head as well as Joe's long sensuous fingers massaging shampoo into my hair. I could have died and gone to heaven then the feeling was so damn amazing. He rinsed my scalp, tenderly turning my head to get all the soapy water out.

"Joe… what's…"

He shook his head, touching my lips with his index finger. "No talking—just relax."

He took a fresh washcloth and applied soap to it slowly, methodically bringing my entire body to sudsy delight and working from back to front. He started at my neck and went all the way down my breasts—my abdomen—down my thighs—and I had sensual chills reverberating over my body.

I closed my eyes and relished his attention, smiling as I felt his hot steamy kisses trailing down my neck and my back. I knew the moment I'd been waiting for was at hand, and I was more than ready.

To my shock, he stepped out of the shower. He was dripping wet and his shirt had funny air pockets where it wasn't clinging to his body. His hair was a mess of wayward wet curls hugging his forehead and neck. He'd never looked sexier or more tantalizing. My body was trembling with the combination of deep sexual desire and goose bumps. He was going to undress now, and any minute he was going to put me out of my misery. I was so, so primed. His clothes were going to hit the floor and we would…

Wait for it…

"I'll be right back. You stay and rinse," he ordered softly.

_What the hell was he up to_? What had happened to my meat and potatoes in the sack Joe? It wasn't like him to prolong what we both were dying to do. I mean we both were, weren't we? Was this some kind of game he was playing like the time he handcuffed me to that very shower a few years ago? Why all the baiting and teasing? Foreplay was not normally high on Morelli's sexual to-do list.

I turned off the shower and grabbed a towel to wrap my hair. I could hear the sounds of smoky Jazz music filtering from the living room. As I grabbed another towel for my body, Joe reentered the bathroom shirtless. _Okay, now we were getting somewhere!_

His chocolate eyes darkened as he gazed at my glistening, wet skin. He reached out his hand to help me exit the shower. Taking the towel out of my arms, he methodically and sweetly dried my body. I sighed as I felt the fiber of the towel and the softness of his fingers ignite each and every one of my skin pores.

"Joe, I want…"

He shook his head, admonishing me again to be quiet and not say a word.

He removed the turban towel from my head, letting my wet curls splay down to my shoulders. Draping the towel behind my neck, he pulled it up over my head like a soft hood, sweetly tamping my hair to release all the extra moisture. We'd never had a spa night before, and I liked it—a lot.

He pulled me toward him, and I was so turned on I was practically salivating. He pushed me against the bathroom wall, his mouth descending on mine. I was so ready and willing. The combination of the cold tile and the heat of his kisses infiltrated my cells, and I became a whimpering mass of submission. _Take me now_. If he didn't I'd have to make him suffer!

He smiled, amused by what he must have seen on my face. _Frustration—thy name is Stephanie_. He scooped me up into his arms and carried me to the bedroom, gently setting me on the bed so that my back was resting against the headboard. He quickly began to shed the rest of his clothing. _YES!_

As he undressed, I realized the room was lit only by candlelight. _Wow, was all that for me? _I took in the romantic setting, music and candlelight? Did my Morelli get abducted and leave Alien Joe in his place?

"You're pulling out all the stops," I murmured, feeling a little more in love with this Joe than I remembered.

He smiled that adoring quiet smile again. _Why wasn't he talking?_

Picking up a plate by the side of the bed, he sat beside me on the mattress, generously cutting a nice big forkful of our favorite chocolate cake. _Thank God for baking mothers._ I opened my mouth and savored his attention almost as much as the glorious cake.

"Mmmmm…this is good!" I whispered. Taking the fork from his hand, I fed him. His eyes lit up along with mine as we both remembered the first piece of cake we ever shared. We had a tradition of devouring cake in our own unique and decadent way.

He set the plate down. I knew we would be finishing it off before the night was over. As far as nights went, I'd be okay if this one never ended.

Joe watched me, the enjoyment shining in his eyes as I wriggled down onto a more accessible position on the bed. He shifted his body to rest his weight on his knees and straddled mine. I don't know if it was the heat from all the candles or me, but it was suddenly very hot in there.

"I'm so ready, Joe," I whispered.

"Not yet."

My eyes crinkled at the corners. This was reminding me of the first time we came back together after so many years apart. He'd made me wait then too, and it had been magical and entirely worth the wait. Sighing deeply, I searched for a smidgen of patience.

Morelli's eyes smiled into mine as he gathered my two hands into one of his, lifting them above my head. He pushed them down against the mattress and showered my eyes, earlobes, nose, throat, chin and finally my lips with kiss after enchanting kiss. My hands were itching to touch him back, but he wouldn't release them. He was definitely on a mission tonight.

The feel of his kisses and his tongue glazing my skin had me antsy to move ahead with this encounter.

"Joe?" I rasped, trying to free at least one hand to touch him.

"Not yet," he murmured against my breast.

I surrendered, relaxing and letting him to do as he desired—allowing the combination of tremors and heat flashes to envelope my senses. I moistened my lips as little hums emitted from my throat. I wanted to touch him back—to show him how much I needed him too. He must have read my mind because my hands were suddenly freed. I wondered if I was really awake because it all felt so dreamlike. I wanted to embrace him—to hold him close and feel only him.

He moved away, only allowing me to forage at the hair on the nape of his neck. His lips were busy moving over every inch of my skin. It was as though he was paying homage to me. It was simply beautiful. I couldn't help but giggle as his tongue tickled me. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I felt like doing both as I inhaled deeply to handle the sensations captivating my body. I was wreathing in anticipation. _Oh God!_ _What was he doing to me_? Did he know how much I love him? Where had he been all my life? I loved this man—only him—always him.

As his fingers teased my thighs, his lips danced across my stomach. I couldn't imagine waiting one moment longer. I needed to show him what he was doing to me. _Finally, _he poised himself over my body so I could show him. I pulled his face toward mine, kissing away the bruises on his face and the bandage on his sweet nose. I took his injured hand in mine and kissed each abrasion across his knuckles. I wished I'd never caused him doubt, worry or pain. I wished I'd never given him so many arguments and excuses. I wished I'd given myself to him completely ages ago.

Digging my fingers into the hair on the nap of his neck, I tugged on his mouth to meet my own and kissed him with everything I'd ever felt for him. I thrust my tongue into his mouth and pressed my lips against his—desperate for him to feel my yearning. I wanted him to know everything I was feeling. He needed to know how much I wanted him too.

Our hands locked—fingers intertwined, we finally became one. He pushed me down deeper into the bed. "You're the sweetest Cupcake ever," he whispered. His voice was raspy from the effort to hold back his passion. A lightning bolt of ecstasy soared through us, and, in perfect undulation, we reunited as one. Joe began to utter beautiful Italian words as he took me to the edge of euphoria and back.

"_Tu sei il mio cuore e la mia anima,vivere senza di teè inimmaginabile. Ti amo con tutto quello che sono io, nel mio cuore per sempre, tu sei la mia felicità, il mio universo._ _Ti adoro_." _Oh my God Italian!_ I couldn't stop crying. Why was I crying? I never cried after sex. What had just happened?

"Are you okay, Cupcake?" Joe's fingers brushed against my wet cheeks, and my hand cupped his face. I felt lucky, so very lucky to have such a beautiful man in my life.

"I don't know why I'm crying. It was so beautiful, Joe." I must have sounded like a lunatic. "You've never spoken Italian before."

"So Italian makes you cry?"

"Italian, and how much I love you."

"I love you too, Cupcake—with every beat of my heart."

"Really? That much?"

"Steph, when you walk into a room, my world lights up. You don't even know how beautiful you are to me, do you?"

"No." I felt the urge to cry again, emotion welling in my throat. Joe was telling me what I'd longed to hear ever since he'd come back into my life.

"Well it's high time I told you then. I mean these things need to be said while I ..." He seemed to fumble for a moment and then his voice grew even more serious. "I'm in awe of you. I think I always have been a little—when you were six, sixteen and even when you were eighteen. There's always been something so amazing about you. You're feisty and full of life. You have tenacity and determination, and you're funny and sweet and irresistible. With you, what you see is what you get, and what I get with you is everything I've ever dreamed of or wanted. No, you're _more_ than I ever dreamed you would be."

I couldn't believe the joy bursting in my heart. This was the Joe I'd been waiting for. This was why when I wanted to take my gun out of the cookie jar, load it and use it on him for target practice, I never did. This was why every time I left him I kept coming back. I could never leave him because he'd become a part of me so long ago.

"Morelli..." I started to tell him how sweet his words were to my ears.

"Shush, I'm on a roll."

I giggled softly because I didn't want to miss one lovely word. "You dream of me?"

"Of course I've been dreaming of you. I've always loved thinking of you, letting myself think of the possibility of you. I would never allow myself to believe in my wildest dreams you could ever actually be in my arms, in my heart and become a part of my soul."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we got off to a rough start, way too early, and I figured when we were banned from one another's life things would never change. Then when I'd see you as we got older that made me sad."

"It did?"

"Of course. I mean I was only eight when we did the garage thing, and I've always wanted to tell you it wasn't my idea. It was my damn brothers Tony and Paulie. They pushed me to do it by blackmailing me."

"How?"

"They threatened to tell my Dad I'd stolen the change he'd left on his dresser. He'd thrown a fit the night before—ranting, raving and threatening when he found out which one of us it was, the guilty one would be throttled within an inch of his life. I didn't do it. It was Tony. I knew if I refused to do what they wanted I'd get a lickin', and I hated getting whipped by him. So I did it. At the time, being with you seemed a way better prospect than the welts I would get from my dad."

"Why didn't you ever tell me this before?"

"Because, Cupcake, I didn't want to seem like I was making excuses. I was ultimately responsible for what happened, but I didn't want you to go on thinking it was something I contemplated and did to hurt you in any way. I was just a kid. I wasn't that crazy about girls yet."

"Oh Joe," I stroke the left side of his chest as my head nuzzled against his arm.

"I regret it, Steph. I can't tell you how much I regret it. If I had it to do over, I would gladly have taken the beating a hundred times over. I was eight, and I knew it was wrong somehow. With Tony and Paulie pushing it, it _had_ to be bad. But I was scared shitless of my father, and I hated him!"

"I know, Joe. I know." Tears are welling in my eyes. He'd never spoken much about his dad, and I knew it was a deep wound that might never ever heal. I was crying for that little boy inside of Joe.

"I liked you. You were so adorable with those cute pigtails and big, huge blue eyes. And you trusted me. At the time I didn't know why but I liked that."

"I did trust you. I think it was because when I flew off the roof trying to be Wonder Woman and I ended up landing in the rose bushes, you gave me your hand and helped me up."

"To me you are Wonder Woman."

My eyes teared up again hearing those words coming from his mouth.

"You know, after I helped you out of the bushes, I got teased for weeks, but, hell I didn't care. I didn't want you to be embarrassed. I knew what that was like all too well, thanks to my stupid brothers."

I felt a whole new understanding for Joe. Suddenly I realized the huge odds that had been against Joe ever being able to become a successful, respected, loving, giving, caring hunk of a man. He'd surmounted those odds so amazingly well. The pride I felt about who he was—the man he'd become—swelled my chest.

"I'm sorry..." I whispered, wishing I could vanquish his pain.

"You're sorry!" Joe turned toward me, his eyes filled with remorse. "I'm the one who's sorry, Stephanie. You were just a little girl. I should never have laid a hand on you. If it were my innocent six-year old daughter, I'd have killed the person that laid a finger on her."

"We were both so young."

Joe nodded at me, the backs of his fingers brushing my cheek. "I know it's hard to believe this, but after it happened there was some kind of weird unspoken connection I felt to you. I'd see you over the years from a distance, and I'd think about you. I wondered what you were like and if we'd ever be able talk. I knew I was absolutely forbidden to be anywhere around you, after our Moms found out what happened in the garage. My mom kept it a secret from my dad, or I'd have gotten that whipping and then some."

"My mom never told my dad, either. That could be why you're still alive." I said teasingly. I wanted to lighten the mood for poor Joe.

"Do you remember the first time we...?"

"Of course I do! I'll never forget it. It was—"

"Me, being a complete ignorant fool again, taking you there like that! You deserved so much better! And me leaving to go into the Navy—what an idiot! I mean I came there to tell you I was leaving. I wanted to say goodbye. I guess after all those years of not being able to speak to you I wanted to see what you were like. You'd matured so much, and I couldn't get you out of my head. I'd see you in the halls at school, and I was attracted to you."

I shifted my body, so I could look at him as he was talking. This was something I'd longed to hear. I wasn't ever sure what the moments behind the éclair case at the Tasty Pastry had meant to him. I knew what they'd meant to me.

Joe was quiet for a while, and I know he was thinking about it as much as I was. I'd never forget it as long as I lived, and it never failed to make me cry when I allowed myself to think about it. No matter how many times I did, I always found myself wishing for a different ending, almost like a movie that ends sadly and you dearly wished it could have been a happy ending instead.

**Flashback: Stephs POV**

"_Hi Stephanie."_

"'_Hi Joe. How's it going?"_

"_Fine. You?"_

"_Just busy with finals and uh…stuff."_

"_Oh, and you're working here now?"_

"_Yeah, you know saving up for college. Are you going to go to college?"_

"_Nah, I'm going to go into the Navy right after graduation."_

"_Really, that's great"' NOT! I felt my stomach twisting in disappointment._

"_I just stopped by to get a cannoli."_

"_Navy… wow, you'll be a long way away."_

"_That's the idea."_

"_What kind of cannoli? Do you want it to go? We're closing soon."_

"_Do you have chocolate chip?"_

"_Yeah, sure."_

"_I think I'll have it here if that's okay."_

"_Sure. I'll just lock the front door now and open it when you're done."_

_My heart raced as I handed him the cannoil. My fingers brushed against his, and I felt my stomach lurch with excitement. I couldn't believe he was leaving Trenton—leaving me. I had no idea. I thought he would be here going to college. I was sure I'd see him, and finally I would get older and we'd run into one another. I fantasized about it all the time—how I'd be more sophisticated and more attractive like the girls he was always around at school. God I wished I were a senior! It sucked being a darn sophomore. Would he ever see me like that? Would he ever be attracted to me? Was I so far out of his league he'd never take a second look? I would never be Teri Grizzolli or a big- boobed cheerleader! He had winked at me a couple of times in the hall at school. I know he did, because after the first time he'd done it again two weeks later. I couldn't have imagined it twice. But maybe it was more like he thought of me like a kid sister. I couldn't believe how being around him made me feel like a tongue-tied nerd._

_I watched him sit down at a table by the window, and he extended his hand and invited me to sit down too._

"_It's good cannoli." He smiled. My legs felt weak. What a smile!_

"_Yeah."_

"_You have pretty eyes." His voice had deepened over the years._

_My heart skipped a beat. "Thanks. You too." I felt the color fill my cheeks._

_I loved that big grin of his. He was so gorgeous when he smiled. I saw a little bit of whip cream left on his lips. I reached out to swipe it away without even thinking._

"_You have a little whip…" I reached out to touch his lips, and my heart zip-zapped._

"_Thanks." His eyes were like chocolate pudding. I'd never realized how delectable they were._

"_You want the last bite?"_

_I shook my head. I didn't trust myself to speak._

"_You don't know what you're missing." His eyes were to die for!_

"_Yes I do." I was a woman who knew her pastries. You name it— I'd eaten it!_

"_Hey, do you want a ride home?" Duh…YEAH!_

"_Sure. I just have to put the trays in the walk-in." I heard my squeaky voice and wondered why I could barely speak._

"_I'll help you."_

"_Okay." I handed him a tray, and we made several trips back and forth to the walk-in. You'd think I would have been chilled from repeated trips to an ice box, but my skin felt like it was on fire. I couldn't even describe how it felt to finally be this close to Joe Morelli!_

_We got to the last tray of cupcakes and grabbed for it at the same time. I pulled— he pushed, and our heads bumped accidently. I felt his hand reach out to steady my footing, and in the klutzy teen shuffle, a cupcake flew right into my cleavage. We managed to set the tray on the top of the case and simultaneously started laughing at my misfortune. Little did we know it was probably a bit of a foretelling of our future of me tracing skips, landing in garbage and being doused in paint and grease and any other kind of messy trash imaginable. And poor Joe! Always having to clean me up and rescue me from myself._

_I felt joy spring in my heart. Laughing with Joe felt so good, and then suddenly the laughter stopped, and I could see his eyes darken into molten pools of chocolate icing. And man, I loved cake! I swallowed hard because the feelings enveloping me were things I'd never felt before. I could easily lose myself looking into those eyes. The embarrassment of being doused in cupcake vanished as I felt a primal urge to fling myself into his arms. Those eyes were beckoning me, and before I realized what was happening, he moved toward me._

_I moved toward him as well, and those lips I'd wiped whip cream from were pressing into mine, cajoling me to respond. His tongue demanded I kiss him back, and oh I was, I am and it feels so delicious so perfect. God I can't get enough of him, I love the feel of his hands caressing me, I love the feel of his hard muscular body next to mine. It feels so right, like it is meant to be, Joe and Stephanie, Stephanie and Joe. He is leaving and I was going to miss him terribly. I heard soft murmurs and breathless panting and realized they were coming from me._

_We stopped kissing long enough to shed our clothing and sink to the floor. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him to be a part of me. I couldn't wait for it. I was going to miss his smile—his eyes—his hands—everything. He needed to know how much he meant to me—how much he'd always meant to me._

_I felt Joe's tongue lick at the smashed remnants of the cupcake. His tongue suckling against my skin had me shuddering in anticipation. Just as he thrust himself into my body, he whispered, "You're the sweetest cupcake ever!" I felt the momentary pain as he pushed into me, and then blissful rhythmic reverberations shook my senses to the core. I had become one with Joe Morelli, and I felt like my life had just begun._

_I wished we could stay like this forever. Of course maybe we'd have to stop to eat once in awhile! _

_I felt the cold rush over me as he left my body. He stood and began dressing. I scurried to do the same. Why was this so awkward now when it had felt perfect a couple of minutes ago? I felt his eyes on me, and I looked deep into his. It felt like an eternity, but it was mere seconds. My body was shaking so much I could hardly stand. I wished I could think of something to say—like you just shook me to the core of my being! Don't go. Stay and have sex with me forever. I love you._

_He was speaking, and I had to force myself to keep those feelings inside._

"_I gotta go."_

"_Good luck in the Navy."_

"_I forgot, I was supposed to give you a ride." Awe, he was so cute—that sheepish smile and little wink!_

"_That's okay. I forgot to take care of the cakes in the window". I heard the shaking in my voice. I hoped he didn't notice._

_There was that dead silence again. It felt like a million words would never fill it._

"_You gotta let me go…"_

"_What? Oh, yeah, the door." I felt his body swishing past me, and it was all I could do not to reach out and stop him from leaving. I just wanted him to stay forever. Damn my hands were shaking so badly I could barely get the key in the lock. I felt the heat envelope me, as his hand moved over mine to steady it, and I finally was able to turn the key._

"_Take care Cupcake." My heart skipped as he winked one last time._

_And then he was gone._

_**End of Flashback.**_

I felt Joe's fingers playing with mine as we held hands. Neither one of us had to speak. We both know where our thoughts had been. And as always a few tears made their way down my cheeks.

"Cupcake, are you okay?"

"I just remember it so clearly, as if it were yesterday."

"Me too."

"Sometimes it feels like we're still those two scared and horny teenagers who don't know how to talk to each other when we need to say words the most." I heard Joe's sad laughter, and I knew he agreed.

"Maybe we've grown up a little. I like to think we have."

I couldn't answer him because my behavior lately had been anything but grown-up.

I scrambled out of his arms, twisting around to lean my back against his upraised knees and began to trace little circles around the eagle tattooed on his chest. This intimacy was new to me, and it was what had been missing all this time. God, I'd been such a fool. He was opening up to me like he'd never done before, and I knew in my heart and soul he was the one I chose. He'd been my choice forever.

"Stephanie, I'm sorry about our first time. I should have been gentler with you. It was your first time. I knew it, and yet I wasn't considerate enough when I realized you wanted me as much as I wanted you. I couldn't control things back then like I should have, and I felt really bad for hurting you."

"Joe, it may not have been slow or romantic, or even loving, but it was fiery and passionate and mind-blowing, and I wouldn't change it now for anything."

"Really?"

"Would you? Do you regret it?"

"Cupcake, I'll never regret one moment I've spent with you."

My eyes smiled up into his, and inside I wanted to cry because I felt tremendous guilt. I'd always projected my feelings of inadequacy onto Joe. I blamed him for not understanding me, for judging me to be incompetent and for not allowing me to do what made me happy. I always thought he wanted to change me, but he hadn't been saying that at all. Maybe I was so insecure about myself I'd assumed he'd an agenda for me and wanted me to fit into his idea of the perfect wife.

"You don't even regret all the times you've rushed to my rescue?"

Joe smiled at me and shook his head. The candlelight flickered, and his eyes shone lovingly into mine. "Steph, I don't regret any of what we've had. Every day with you is anything but boring, and as much as you drive me crazy, I wouldn't change anything except you being safe. I can't help it, sweetheart. The thought of finding you hurt—or worse—is something I can't even imagine. You have no idea how devastated I'd be."

"You just want me safe? You don't want me to stop bounty hunting anymore?"

"The truth?"

"_Yes."_

"I knew you had great instincts from the beginning when you and I started working together. You were a natural in the way you thought and put the pieces of the puzzles together. Your mind definitely works in mysterious ways, and it was pretty amazing to be there to see you discover a talent you never knew you had. It was fun—so much fun to watch you evolve. At first you had no clue what the hell you were doing, but that didn't stop you—not for a minute, and God, I admired that about you."

_I couldn't believe this was Joe!_ He wasn't yelling or putting me down. He wasn't defensive or argumentative. He was being open and sweet.

"Really, you admire me?"

"Steph, if I had to go down a list of the ways you've amazed and surprised me, we'd be here for days."

"I've got time." I teased him.

"I'd feel better if I knew you'd be careful and take every precaution to train yourself a little more in order to cope with those crazies you run into all the time. I can't imagine the heartache I'd feel if I came to the scene of one more, crazy explosion and found out you were gone for good." I heard the break in Joe's voice and suddenly I felt very small.

"I want you safe too, Joe. If anything were to ever happen to you—" I felt tears pool in my eyes. "Why haven't you ever opened up to me like this before. Is it because of Ran—"

He put his finger to my lips. His jaw hardened for a moment then his features softened again.

"I want tonight to be for us."

"Me too." _I want every day and night to be for us from now on_.

He cupped his hand under my chin. "You know I love you right?"

"Yeah, I love you too."

"You know I'd die for you?" I saw Joe's eyes gleaming in the candlelight. I couldn't be sure, but it almost looked as though they were moist with tears.

"Yeah, but don't."

"Not planning to, but if it came up, I thought you should know I'm okay with it."

"You rescue me all the time. Don't you dare ever die on me."

"You are my world. And the thing I want more than anything else is for you to be able to fly just like you always wanted. And I'm going to see that it happens for you. I promise."

Joe's eyes sparkled with the depth of his vow, and I believed him. My heart and soul soared with my belief in him—and in us. At last there was no more turmoil, and I knew the man I wanted was here, kissing me passionately and whispering to me softly as he pulled my body on top of his. I knew he would be with me forever.


	2. Chapter 2

After Eighteen Chapter Two

No profit no credit for characters.

Thanks to those who have read it and written feedback. I really appreciate it.

Carol, Thank you for Beta reading and being so supportive.

**Steph POV**

My eyes flickered and I felt my arms and legs still beautifully entwined with Joe's. Tears fell from my eyes onto my pillow. I tried to swipe them away, but they just keep falling. I hadn't cried so much in ages. Memories of my life with Joe were coming fast and furious, and I realized again and again what a damn fool I'd been.

I remembered how distraught I was when I never heard from him before he left to join the Navy. I thought I would see him in those last two weeks, but there was nothing—not a call, a note, not even a smile or a wink. I remembered seeing him at his graduation and willing him to look at me, but he never did, and if he had, I think I would have sent a nice profane Italian hand gesture his way. It was days after he left I found out he'd left me quite the note, after all, at Mario's Sub shop where he bragged about his conquest of me—in poetry no less.

I'd never been so humiliated in my life. I wanted to kick him where it hurt, and I wanted him to come back home safe and sound so I could make him pay! And at the same time a part of me just wanted him to come home safe and sound so I could see his eyes and feel his embrace again. I really felt like those moments at the Tasty Pastry in his arms were the beginning of something magical and wonderful—and unforgettable. I couldn't help but smile now as I realized it had taken a very long time, but they had indeed been our beginning.

More memories were infiltrating my head, and I couldn't go back to sleep because I needed to sort them out and make peace with the past once and for all. I wanted to plan a future—a future I'd been foolishly afraid of and running from for years.

I thought of that young teenager I used to be and recalled the feelings of disappointment over Joe. I kept wishing and dreaming that a letter might come—or a postcard or a phone call. But nothing came, and after the humiliation of giving myself to someone in such an unplanned, crazy way, I had wanted to crawl into a ball and roll as far away from Trenton as I could. Life went on, but it wasn't ever the same. I realized, as crazy as it seemed, that I'd loved Joe since I was six years old.

I never told anyone about it, but I had a journal, and I kept a record of every chance meeting we'd had throughout the years. I hid it under my mattress, and whenever I saw him from the time I was nine and a half on, it was recorded. I titled the book "Morelli Moments". Funny, because, we never even spoke to one another, after the "choo choo" incident. Our mothers had forbidden it. But I never forgot that he pulled me out of those roses, and I never forgot him. He'd become my superhero that day, and I always felt a magnetic pull toward him my whole life.

So after the Tasty Pastry moment, my obsession with him only magnified. I was hurt and confused and so deeply in love, I didn't know what to do.

I missed him terribly, and he'd treated me as though I was an inconsequential nothing. I'd never told anyone how devastated I'd felt. I'd joked with Mary Lou, but Mary Lou somehow always knew there was more to my feelings than I ever admitted.

I cringed under the judgmental gaze of my parents and Valerie. And the only thing I could do was put up a brave, feisty front so no one could ever see how much I was hurting. And I realized now that I'd been keeping up the front like a pro, and by doing it, I'd started to lie to everyone around me—and to myself most of all.

I remembered now where it all started—how paralyzed in fear I'd been about the possibility I could have gotten pregnant. I'd been scared out of my mind. What the heck had I been thinking? I'd waited, sweating it out all alone. And then blissfully, happily the monthly curse I'd usually hated had come after five overdue days of torture. In those five days I'd done nothing but imagine what it could have been like with the opposite result. I'd wondered if I was pregnant and had told Joe, would he have supported me and the baby or would he have just turned his back on me and pretended it never happened? That lonely, scared teenager still existed inside of me. Joe _had _left and had taken a part of me with him. He never knew because I'd never told him.

My body felt antsy, and I almost wished Joe were awake so I could ask him about it. We'd done a lot of talking tonight and now I felt like there was nothing we couldn't talk about. This new open, loving Joe was my partner, and I would share everything with him from now on. I wriggled my body slowly and quietly so I didn't disturb him. I tiptoed out of bed, and sat on the armchair beside the bed, and in the flickering candlelight I watched him peacefully, sleeping.

And I loved that he was still there. He'd always been there. I was the one who left—not him. I'd left him so many times; I can't even count them anymore. I felt frustrated with myself for wasting so much precious time. Joe was the one who had waited it all out, always being there no matter what.

I'd been a deceitful, spoiled brat. I could hardly stand looking myself in the mirror anymore because I'd betrayed the man I loved with all my heart. I slept with Ranger, multiple times. I'd been unfaithful—in my body, my heart, my head and my soul. I'd slept with two men at the same time. What did that make me? Joyce Barnhardt—no better—that was for sure. I had excused it in my head so many times I'd actually believed I was free to do it. I'd done it for my own sexual satisfaction. It was brazen and cold and calculating—none of the things I'd ever been before in my life. And all the while I'd known nothing would come of it with Ranger. I'd convinced myself I was in love with both of them, but how could I be in love with a man who barely spoke two words at a time, and constantly told me I would never be anything permanent or substantial in his life?

I fooled myself into believing Joe and I weren't really together, but when were we _not _together? Maybe a few days or weeks, but in truth, he'd never been out of my heart. I'd betrayed him pure and simple. Correction—not pure. That was the last word I could ever have used to describe myself.

I wanted to tell Joe. I'd wanted to for a very long time, but to come clean would hurt him. I knew that now. After his revelations earlier, he'd be destroyed when he found out.

I couldn't stop thinking of his face when I told him we should see other people. I chose to ignore it, but the pain I saw before he'd hid it had stabbed my heart. He never acted as though he'd minded the possibility of me seeing anyone else. But I knew in my soul he'd wanted no part of it. So what had I done? I'd callously ignored his needs in favor of my own. I'd even manipulated my mind into believing he'd sanctioned my infidelity. I blamed him when it was ALL me.

Joe hadn't made the suggestion we see other people or have an open relationship—I had. I'd questioned his commitment to me all the time when it was really the other way around. He should have been the one questioning me. He'd grown up. Lately he hadn't even been putting down my job or asking me to choose another career. He'd just wanted me safe. I wanted him safe too, so how was he so wrong to want that for the woman he loved. _He loved_.

He wanted to marry me. He'd said it many times. He always brought it up in an offhand, casual manner. And with my sarcastic reactions and propensity for picking fights in order to have an excuse to leave, why in the hell would he actually want to put a ring on my finger? I always blamed him. I'd projected my fears and reluctance to be married onto him. And I'd contrived situations where I would never have to get into the relationship too long or too deeply. After Dickie, I'd needed to protect myself by being the one in control. That had probably been a subconscious decision I'd made the moment Morelli had walked out of the Tasty Pastry and the moment Dickie Orr had cheated on me in my house on my dining room table. I'd reached conclusions about those times in my life. Dickie had been more about humiliation than heartbreak. Morelli had been ALL heartbreak.

I walked to the fire escape window and pulled the curtain back. My hand reached out to touch the pane. The window felt icy to my touch and I wondered if that same ice had frozen my heart. I felt a deep pain that nearly took my breath away, so it must be thawing out some. When had I shut it off and begun to run away from Joe? Joe had been magic at first. He was an amazing lover and sparring partner—a companion. I felt so alive when I was with him. And I was happy—really, really happy to be near him. Even when he'd ingratiated himself into every moment of my life, I'd wanted him there. I wanted our friendship, and I loved our flirty bantering. I knew he'd been falling in love with me, and I knew I was with him. Joe may not have bared his soul every day, but his eyes and his smile and his tender touch had told me the truth.

I missed the hard sinewy muscles of his arms—and his fingers and toes and nose and eyes and mouth and on and on… I missed_ him_. But he wasn't the one who'd left. I had. When was that anyway? Was it when things started getting really good that fear had taken over? Did I mentally just check out? On the surface I was there, but something had freaked me out enough to run for the hills or rather to Ranger.

I wouldn't have been so vulnerable to Ranger's flirting if I'd stayed present in the relationship with Joe. I realized that somewhere along the way I had packed a mental bag and a part of me left the relationship that was new and budding and wonderful and mind blowing in every way. Ranger was intriguing mysterious—closed off, aggravatingly distant, stubborn, protective—and okay, over-protective. Who would blame him? How many of his cars had been bombed, wrecked, scrunched or disintegrated?

But as sweet and protective as he had been toward me, I knew he would never be fully checked in either. I would never be first. I would never be sure of his feelings. I would never have the stability I needed or total access to his world. I would never have a guarantee of any kind. The part of me who had checked out on Joe would be okay with that. But the real me, who was loving and open and wanted to reopen my heart to love again, would never have the whole man with Ranger.

I realized now that Ranger and I are too much alike. We both hold back because of whatever wounds we have. We can't ever be open books for each other or anyone else. But that wasn't what I wanted. I didn't want to become a reclusive, unreachable, hardened cynic—afraid to give love, show love and be loved. I wanted to give Joe my heart completely and I wanted to feel loved absolutely.

Ranger told me once I only had thirty percent of Morelli. I shook my head now realizing how false that perception was. How could Ranger really know what Joe feels for me? He wasn't there in the beginning. He'd only seen clips of Joe. He knew Joe wanted to protect me, and they had a mostly unspoken, masculine, macho agreement about making that happen at any cost.

Ranger doesn't know Joe's heart, but I do. And now I was willing to bet if there were a pie chart in Morelli's heart, my name would hold the highest percentage. He'd told me tonight I meant everything to him. I could see in his eyes he'd meant every word. I wished I could wake him up just to see that look again, but it wouldn't be fair. A homicide cop gets called out all hours of the night, and for Joe not to get an emergency call was rare. So I'd keep him close and sleepy for now and savor some more of him in the morning. Joe was giving me everything he could, and if he'd held back some of himself; well I was the one to blame. I knew it and I was ready to own up to it.

Why had I allowed myself to be so blind? Ranger's influence had gone too far. Joe at thirty percent would be better than Ranger's ten or less. So that was the Superhero calling the cop black. No the cop couldn't be in black—only the superhero wore black, so that really wasn't a good analogy. What did it matter? I'd finally made the choice—Joe. I'd been so stupid—so confused—so scared and so busy running that I had missed the obvious. Joe was everything I'd ever wanted and more.

I felt the smile widening on my face as I watched my Joe scrunching his nose a little like he always did just before he went into a low, whispery-sounding snore.

I felt the cold now, and all I wanted was to feel his warm body curled into mine. I quickly, blew out the low, flickering candles, closing the distance between us.

I lay down beside him. Joe Morelli was real magic. He'd always been magic for me, and now I realized Ranger had been the illusion. Joe's arms reached out to me even in sleep, curling around me instinctively and pulling me into his warm embrace. I was the one who had lost our magic, and I intended to keep it now that I'd found it again.

Morelli was truth, open and loving, stubborn, pigheaded, amazing, temperamental, protective—okay over-protective—gorgeous, aggravating, sexy, funny, charming, huggable and magic—pure magic.

I could hardly believe how lucky I was! And starting tomorrow I was going to have a whole new life. I was going to tell Joe everything, and I was going to beg for his forgiveness and ask for another chance. And he was going to know, without a shadow of doubt, that he was my only choice. He'd always been my ONLY choice.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed this story. Big thanks to Carol for Beta reading this for me and for encouraging me to write it. Not my characters. No profit made.

Chapter Three

**Joe's POV**

_Damn, the sun was rising_. I felt the rays forcing my eyes to open. I hadn't wanted the morning to come. I could feel Stephanie's body snuggled against mine and her hand cupped around my chest. My throat filled with tears, and my eyes threatened to let them fall. I wanted nothing more than to see her wake up next to me—to have her beautiful blue eyes twinkling and enticing me to make love to her again and again. I loved every morning I awakened next to her. I wished I could have more delicious moments like that for the rest of my life.

But it wasn't possible. I'd made a horrible mistake last night. I couldn't stop myself from being with her again, however, the harsh reality of morning had come, and I couldn't deny what needed to be done.

I was planning to do it last night but something came over me, and I had to be with her. I had to tell her everything. Me, Joe Morelli, second only to Ranger as the strong silent type, blabbered my fricken' heart out. What the hell was I thinking? I was thinking I'd never have another chance.

My heart had been breaking for a very long time, so what was one more crack? I didn't have anything left to lose. I had to let her know what she meant to me. I had to tell her I loved her—that I would always, always love her. I loved her from my head to my toes. I gave her my heart and my soul. I never felt so deeply in love with anyone else in my entire life. And I knew I never would again. There was only one Stephanie.

I wished my damn eyes would stop burning. I moved away from her, forcing myself to end the physical connection so I could do what I came here to do. I couldn't stop looking at her. I never wanted to stop looking at her. She was sweet and funny—brave and stubborn—and so beautiful. Her beauty was inner and outer and natural and unspoiled and breathtaking. Her courage and determination and tenacity were mind-boggling—and acid-reflux inducing. And I LOVED her. I'd never been in love, truly in love, until HER.

Last night was the most amazing time I'd had with her, so intimate and captivating. I was filled with this unconditional love for her. Everything I'd ever held back had seemed to flood out of me, and I couldn't have stopped it if I wanted to. I'd been putting walls up for a long time, trying to dodge both the real and metaphoric bullets that came with being a part of her crazy life. Most of the time I put on what she always called my 'cop face' but little did she know it was really my 'Steph' face. I could never afford to let her see how much she hurt me. If she truly knew, she would run away forever. She wouldn't face it. I know she didn't hurt me on purpose. I don't think she'd ever do that willingly, but she did deeply.

I learned from my mother that if you loved someone you had to let them be free to be who they truly were—faults and all. My mother suffered so much at the hands of my father, and I knew despite her attempts to hide it, it broke her heart to be verbally and physically abused—having her spirit crushed by the man she loved most in this world. My father was a total bastard, and I made up my mind long ago that I would never be like him.

My mother would cry long after she thought we were asleep. My father would be out on one of his binges and she'd have a moment to herself to let it go. I'd lie there listening to that pain. I never wanted to see my beautiful Stephanie in that kind of pain. That was why I did everything I knew to keep her safe and loved. And at the same time, I tried to let her be free. She'd been free to come and go out of my life so many times, I couldn't count. I never blocked her exits or her reentries in and out of my life, because then I'd be making her the prisoner my mother was. Every time the door slammed in my face, I steeled my temper and forced my legs NOT to run after her. I'd strain my arms to keep from reaching out to hold her back. I would not be a dictator trying to enforce my will on anyone else, least of all Stephanie. That was my father. I would never be him. I had surrendered to letting Steph swing my front door back and forth so many times I thought I was living in a fucking saloon.

I knew when an imminent departure was coming. The need to flee was obvious on her face, and I dreaded it every time. Once the sex became a desperate, frantic, crazed solution I knew she'd be gone in a matter of days. When the sex was slower, languid, funny or silly I knew she'd be around a little while longer. I mentally pleaded with her not to go over and over, and I knew if we could see just one of the asinine fights though to the end without her leaving, we would have had a chance. But that never happened.

Now I found myself facing the inevitable truth. She wanted something I couldn't give her. No matter how much I wanted her to choose me, she chose him.

I suspected all along something wasn't right, and I wasn't entirely sure how far it had gone until Scroggs shot Ranger. The way she lost it—the look in her eyes and on her face that day made it undeniable. But I denied it because that was the day she'd first told me she was in love with me. I fooled myself into believing she couldn't possibly love Ranger. No way could she love us both at the same time, right? Wrong.

My gut twisted the day she demanded we have an open relationship. What could I say? I said nothing. I let her assume I would honor her wishes and help myself to a bevy of woman ready, willing and able—and there _were_ plenty of them. But I never did. I had loved her ever since she came back, guns blazing, to take me in as her first FTA. I knew— hell even before then—that she had always held a place in my heart.

After her edict that we should see other people, I'd been on edge—always wondering and second-guessing. Had she or hadn't she? Would she or wouldn't she? Would it be better or worse with Ranger? I knew. My instincts told me she was unfaithful. But I couldn't open my mouth to ask. Sometimes I smelled the Bulgari shower gel on her clothing or in her hair, and I knew. It killed me inside, but I didn't let on other than a few offhanded remarks against Ranger.

Sometimes I'd open my mouth to accuse her, but then I'd think why bother. She didn't want it brought up. She'd run right back into Ranger's arms if she thought I knew for sure. I know her so well, and I hated to see her struggling and tortured over it at times, but I could see she was helpless to stop it. I'd catch the guilt in her eyes when she thought I wasn't looking. I'd see her clutching at Ranger's jacket, then her arms flailing instantly to the side as soon as she saw me coming toward her.

I'd heard the gossip and rumors and whispered innuendo as I walked the halls in the precinct. And I chose to swallow my pride and ignore them all, because I loved her. The, don't ask/don't tell became the wedge between us. I didn't allow myself to dream of a future because what was the point. Don't ask/don't tell was like a freaking background music playing between every touch and every conversation.

I denied it to myself every time we had a moment that reassured me she loved me. I couldn't allow myself to face the ugly truth. And sometimes I wished I could kill Ranger because I was furious at him for continually interfering in our lives. But the truth, harsh as it is, was that Ranger had no power over Stephanie unless she allowed it and wanted it. It was something inside Stephanie, and she was the only one who could fix or change it. I knew she loved him now. There was no denial anymore.

If Stephanie didn't ever want a commitment, how could I blame her? After all, next to Dickie Orr I'm the one most responsible for her fear of marriage. From everything I'd observed of Ranger, he didn't want anything to do with commitment, marriage or children. He hadn't even taken an active role in his own daughter's life. So maybe he was what Stephanie needed. She'd never have to worry about having children with Ranger.

I'd even witnessed a couple of embraces in the back alley behind Vinnie's office. Steph would quickly try to hide the minute she felt my presence. Ranger didn't seem to care one-way or the other. I guess a part of me respected Ranger on one level, but I also thought he was crazy on many others. I understand what it was like to be in love with Stephanie better than ANYONE so I knew how impossible it was to stop falling once you actually fall. I warned Ranger to stay away from her, thinking maybe it was his constant pressure that kept her going back, I warned him not to cross the line. But I knew those lines had been crossed and crisscrossed.

As I looked at her, my eyes betrayed my bravado. Tears were imminent. She was my heart and soul. She was every breath. How was I going to go on without her? I couldn't imagine never waking next to her again. It was even more impossible to imagine never kissing her or holding her or sharing Pino's and a game. But after flying fifteen hours to be with her in Hawaii and finding out everything I'd ever suspected was true—after seeing it with my own eyes in living Hawaiian-shirt Technicolor, I couldn't be in blissful ignorance any longer. If I thought I was in pain before it was nothing compared to Hawaii.

Hawaii was anguish. I'd felt like every gang member on Stark Street had punched me in the gut, and then every drug dealer I'd ever busted had shot me. I'd felt like the air was taken from me, and the life was drained out of me. The sun had blackened permanently. So what had I done? I'd put up a new wall—a better constructed one that gave little away and left LOTS to the imagination. If Stephanie was so crazy about Mystery MEN, well I'd give her some mystery. Let her guess what the hell was going on in my head for a change. I'd tried really hard to continue with the status quo when everyone got back. The broken nose and cuts and lacerations from Ranger's fists were constant humiliating reminders that she hadn't really chosen me to go to Hawaii with her. Because when I reluctantly refused her, due to my overwhelming caseload, she'd found herself a superhero replacement in no time flat.

I couldn't be delusional anymore. Today was the day to face my life was changing forever. And I was powerless to stop it. I knew what had to be done. My mom was right.

I couldn't put this off another second because if I didn't get out of that bed right then, I would let her wake up, and I'd fall right back into our pattern, I would forget everything but her eyes, and her heart and her soul—all of which I was madly in love with. I would want nothing more than to bask in Stephanie forever, and I'd keep holding her back, and that was something I couldn't and wouldn't do any longer.

I took one last look at her, propelling myself out of the bed before I changed my mind. One damn tear escaped, and I swiped it away because I had to stay strong, maybe there would be time for tears later.

I turned on the shower, longing to feel some release from all the pain I was in, but the water wasn't comforting. It felt like tiny pin pricks reminding me there was nothing but pain ahead of me. I hadn't been sleeping much since Hawaii, and I doubted I'd be sleeping well for a long time to come.

I wasn't even sure if I had a future. I knew that was a dangerous place for a cop to be. One of the things that got us through the daily cop grind was family. And the only family that mattered to me was the one I thought I had with Stephanie, Bob and Rex.

How would I live without them?

I was more than a little burned out. I'd been so tired lately seeing murder victims every day. Some of them were so young they'd barely begun their lives, knowing there was no permanent solution in sight. We'd watch one case after another fall apart because there wasn't enough evidence, or we were dealing with a corrupt justice system that allowed the murderers and rapists right back out on the street. It was disheartening and unfulfilling. I'd always wanted to make a difference, but I felt like I was drowning in it. For every break we'd get it seemed we'd fall two steps behind. Sometimes I wondered how much longer I could do it.

And on top of all the crime and destruction there was my beautiful Stephanie chasing the same crazy people, putting her life in danger on a daily basis and somehow more often than not getting, mixed up in the middle of my cases. She was amazing and scary as hell all at the same time. And I loved her. Everything in my world revolved around her. What in the hell was I going to do without her?

I heard the shower curtain being pulled back, and there she is, God she was so beautiful with that mischievous smile and her bed-head curls falling into her eyes. I saw her smile widening as she looked at me. It would be so easy to pull her into the shower and hold her for the rest of my life, but I couldn't allow myself to be that selfish anymore. I felt her hand touch my chest, and it was all I could do not to scream at her for making my life an impossible nightmare.

I grabbed her wrist and pushed it away. It took everything I had in me to deny myself of her.

"NO." It was the best I could do. I didn't trust myself to say more. Thank God the water droplets were all over my face, so she wouldn't be able to see the tear falling down my cheek.

"Joe, what's wrong? Did you get called to work?"

"No."

"Then…?"

"We need to talk." I managed to sidestep her outstretched hand. "Here, I'm done. You go ahead and shower. I'll see you in the kitchen."

**Steph's POV**

I couldn't believe my hands were shaking that much. Joe had said we needed to talk, and I knew we did, but there was something about the look in his eyes, the set of his jaw and the tone of his voice. I was shaking from the inside, out. I needed some damn mascara, and me putting mascara on before breakfast was not a good sign. I never did mascara before coffee. But I needed to feel confident. I needed to feel beautiful. I needed Joe to think I was beautiful. I knew this was the moment when I would confess everything about my affair with Ranger. My heart tripped a little, and I realized for this confession I needed an extra layer of mascara—maybe even two.

I had no idea how he would take it. I thought I knew, but after last night maybe he'd forgive me for everything because he loved me. I finally knew how much he loved me. He'd confided in me so beautifully last night. There was nothing we couldn't talk about. As long as we were together we could get through anything. Despite my self-assurance, an ominous tidal wave of doubt wiped away my confidence.

I was scared out of my mind. I didn't know how I was going to find the words to tell him. I didn't want to inflict any more pain. Joe had been through so much with his family. He didn't deserve more. He'd been the best thing in my life, and I had never meant for any of it to happen.

_Oh please_…I was begging God! I knew I didn't really have a right to ask. I was way, way overdue for a confession, although I'd never understood why telling a priest what you did mattered all that much if God saw everything. It wasn't like he didn't already know. And why was the priest like the middleman? Did he send a special report to God every month?

So I confessed directly to God that I loved Joe, and I needed him. I knew I'd made a mess of my life. I was hurting two men I loved. But maybe I wasn't hurting Ranger. That was something I might never know for sure, and I guessed that was okay. I was just so scared and confused. I was sure I knew where I wanted to be, and I knew whom it was I wanted to be with. I was begging God to help Joe know I loved him—to help me make the whole fiasco right once and for all and to give me the courage to tell the truth.

My hands were still shaking, and it looked as though I was going to need divine intervention to get the damn lid back on the mascara. I couldn't put it off another minute. It was time to face the music, pay the piper, kick the bucket and, yes, stop clichés. I took a deep, deep, cleansing breath. Why then did I still feel so dirty?


	4. Chapter 4

**Not my characters. No profit. **

**It's a long chapter, didn't know how to break it and keep the momentum. **

**Thanks to all who have left feedback that I cannot answer directly. I really appreciate it. **

**Carol, you are the best beta reader ever! Thanks for all you do. **

**Chapter 4**

**Joe's POV**

I kept blowing out air, hoping the stress would flow out of me and disappear. This would be the hardest thing I'd ever done in my life, and honestly I wasn't even sure I'd be able to see it through. I knew what it would cost me, but I was prepared to pay that price. I was ready to give the woman I love what she needed most in this world.

I turned around with her coffee mug cradled in my hands. There she was standing in the doorway—so lovely in the sea blue robe I'd given her last Christmas. The plunging cleavage of the collar popped open slightly, and I couldn't help devouring her with my eyes. I took in the shapely leg that was peaking through the slit by her knee. I had chosen it because the color reminded me of her eyes.

Neither of us uttered a word, and I knew that once this conversation began there would be no turning back. She seemed a little wobbly as she pulled out the kitchen chair and sat down quickly.

I walked over to her and handed her the coffee, laced with cream and two spoons of sugar just the way she loved it. Our hands brushed slightly as I transferred it to her, and I felt the familiar zip of electricity any physical contact between us had always created. I returned to the counter, pushing my back against the sink preferring to keep a safe distance.

"So talk." I saw the foreboding look in her eyes, and I knew she sensed things were far from where they were last night.

I opened my mouth to speak and nothing came out. I cleared my throat, and I searched for the words. They needed to be precise and succinct so they left no doubt of their meaning in her mind.

"Steph, I can't pretend anymore." My voice sounded dead—so flat. The pain I felt was excruciating, and I couldn't even try to hide it. I had to stay in control. I couldn't afford to be a coward now.

"We can talk about anything you want, Joe, I'm so ready to—"

I held up my hand to stop her. "I'm going to do the talking. I want you to listen, hear me. This isn't easy, but I need the chance to get this out in the open once and for all, so please just let me speak."

I heard the squeaky rotation of Rex's wheel, and—as crazy as this was—I got the feeling it wouldn't be good for Rex to witness the conversation. I knew it wasn't like he was our kid, but somehow it just felt wrong. I motioned for Stephanie to follow me to the living room. It was a good thing Bob spent the night at Carl's, because he was going to be devastated by this. He would really miss his Stephanie.

I felt her eyes on me as I stared aimlessly out the living room window. Slowly I turned to face her.

"I don't know how—" I shook my head to clear it. My thought patterns had become a jumbled mess. "I've tried everything I know to be the man I thought you needed."

"Joe, you are—"

"No. Don't you dare tell me I am! Don't keep lying to me. Please at least give me that much consideration." The words spurted out of me—my emotions bubbling.

"But you're a wonderful man."

I heard the thread of panic in her words.

"Just not man enough for you?" I couldn't hold back the sarcasm and anger stirring in my voice. It'd been building for a long time.

"So this is about Ranger?"

"You're fucking right this is about Ranger!" The anger was rising up front and center, and I couldn't be sure what I would say before this was over.

"Ranger was—"

"IS! Ranger is between us and _has_ ALWAYS come between us! You let him!"

"You're right."

"Yeah, well being fucking right is so fulfilling, Steph." I couldn't help the sarcasm in my voice. "So is being fucking honest. You should try it some time!" Betrayal was a deep festering wound.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, you're sorry you got caught. But I have a big newsflash for you, Steph." The Italian hand waving came out as it always did when I couldn't express something adequately in words. "I'm a cop. I'm trained, and I have years of experience in picking up subtle clues. It's what I do, and I'm damn good at it. Too bad for you, as it makes it a little harder to cheat on your boyfriend and get away with it, right?"

I saw the shocked look on her face. She really hadn't had a clue I knew.

I fixed my gaze on her. It felt as though I was looking at a stranger. "I look for body language and eye contact all the time. Do you know how many times HIS name would come up, and you'd turn your head away from me? Do you remember the last time you looked directly into my eyes without casting them down the minute we begin to make a connection? Because I don't."

"I didn't—"

"I'm trained to detect these things, Steph. You know that. How could you think I wouldn't have a clue? I make my living seeking out answers and finding abnormalities. It's like breathing for me. And when I figure out the answers, I catch the bad guys. Only this time there's no bad guy—only a very guilty, confused and misguided Cupcake. You're the woman I love with all my heart. I wish to God I didn't. And I only wish I'd been as clueless as you'd hoped I'd be."

I saw the tears pouring down her cheeks, and, for the first time, they didn't weaken me because I was so pissed—so angry with her for ruining what we'd had. I knew we'd had something amazing, and she'd mutilated it. I needed to get this out of my system.

"I never…meant to hurt you." I heard her raspy regretful tone.

"But you did."

"I thought about telling you many times… but I couldn't. I thought if you knew you'd kill Ranger, and you nearly did in Hawaii."

"No, I wanted to kill you." Mostly I'd wanted to kill whatever it was she felt for Ranger.

"I didn't mean—"

"Oh yeah you did mean. Don't lie to me, and don't lie to yourself. You set it up to happen. Once you decided you couldn't resist him, well, what Joe didn't know for sure wouldn't hurt him, right?" My eyes defiantly dared her to deny it.

"I know you're hurting." I saw her get up from her chair and make a move toward me.

"You don't know anything! When I think of all the times I overheard the whispers and the gossip at work and the nights I'd come home to find you waiting here as though NOTHING was any different. I'd take you to bed smelling his shower gel in your hair!" I felt disgusted with myself as I heard the truth spoken out loud. Had I really been so deluded simply because I was desperately in love with her?

"I…I hated myself."

"I hated you too." I didn't mean it, but maybe part of me did. "I kept telling myself it was a passing thing. Maybe it was my karma for all the pain I'd inflicted while I was sewing my wild oats and for playing with you when we were younger. Maybe I was paying for taking your virginity and leaving you to deal with the fallout of my stupid, drunken poetry all over town."

"No, that's all in the past. We were both so young. I didn't know what the hell I was doing! I ran to Ranger because I was afraid of what I had with you! Joe, I don't want him anymore!"

"The hell you don't! Tell me, Stephanie, have you been with him since we got back from Hawaii?"

I saw her eyes do the quick dart away from mine, and I knew without her confirming it verbally. I knew.

"Yes."

"Well what do you know—the truth for a change." I couldn't hide the bitterness I felt.

"Joe, I—"

"I don't want your excuses. Oh and the bladder infection—that was rich too. Yet another excuse for you not to be with me so you could fuck him, right? You should've just told me. You should've respected me enough to be honest."

"It wasn't an excuse. It was after I swore off men."

I heard the hard, guttural laughter coming from my throat. "So that made everything okay?"

Stephanie's involuntary blush was enough of an answer. Unbelievable! How could she have been so damned deceptive all this time?

"I'm ashamed of myself."

"You should be." I knew I was being harsh, but a part of me wanted to lash out, and I couldn't seem to stop it.

"Hawaii was too much. How could you? I thought you wanted me with you."

"I did—I do." I could see Stephanie's hands trembling as pushed the brown curls back from her face.

"No, you didn't! I couldn't believe you were squirreled away in that couples-only hotel with him! What the hell were the wedding rings about?" I was finally going to get some answers, and it was about damn time!

"It was about an FTA—the Rug. The one I got yesterday."

"Right, you called Ranger to be with you in Hawaii to help extradite him?"

"Yes…no." I saw her eyes were filled with guilt.

"You went there, and when I couldn't go with you, you called him. You wanted him. Why don't you just admit it?"

"I didn't plan it. It just happened. We went to that place because the Rug was there. I swear."

"How hard did you look for him once Manoso got there?"

I saw the instantaneous flushing and the telltale embarrassment. It was enough confirmation.

"That's what I thought. I guess you and Manoso had quite the honeymoon before I arrived."

"Joe, you have to listen to me. We were posing as a married couple to get into the resort."

"Well good job! Your little charade was quite convincing!"

"I had no idea you would show up. If I had, I would never have called Ranger."

"Sure—that's why when I did come, you used a stun gun on me!"

"I used it on both of you, and it wasn't exactly easy with the way you two Neanderthals were going at it!"

"What did you expect me to do—shake his hand and give him my blessing!"

"No. I don't know. I just didn't want you to kill each other."

"And you couldn't even stay and face either one of us. I mean for God sakes! I needed some answers and some closure!"

"Closure? Joe no…" I saw her arms cross in front of her chest and the rebellious gleam in her eyes.

"And you expected it to all to go back to normal when we got back—no explanations, no apologies and no resolutions."

"You didn't want to talk about it either!"

"Yes, I did! I knew you didn't!"

"Hawaii wasn't what I wanted it to be at all." She shook her head at me.

"Yeah, I'm sure once I showed up it put a real monkey wrench in your plans."

"Joe." I heard the remorse in her voice, but it didn't soften the pain.

"It doesn't matter anymore. It's done. You can't take it back even if you wanted to." I looked away from her for a moment. I needed to gather my thoughts. I turned back after quickly realizing there was nothing left to hide.

"I've loved you for so long I can't even see straight anymore. You were it for me Steph. I felt like I'd been waiting my whole life for you. Sometimes I thought we got together when we were young, because it was always meant for us to be together. I thought deep inside we both knew it, but I guess maybe I'm the only one who knew it."

"I didn't know you were this sure."

"I was."

I heard her soft, choked sob and normally it would invoke my instantaneous rushing to her side. Typically I'd do whatever it took to keep her from shedding a tear. It was all I could do not to shed my own tears. My heart felt like it was being yanked out of my chest. I'd never been in touch with my emotions that much. Sure I'd get angry easily. I'm Italian—it went with the territory. But never in my life had I felt such an overwhelming urge to sit down, put my head in my hands and let out all the emotion. I couldn't do it. I had to keep going, and I knew the inevitable conclusion was at hand. Pacing always helped when I got upset, so I started some Olympic-worthy pacing.

"In the beginning, I screwed up big time. We were dancing around each other, and I wanted you so badly. I was falling in love even then, but when the undercover assignment came up, I volunteered. I left you for five months without calling or even telling you why I was going. I hadn't realized how long it would be. It was cruel, and you didn't deserve it even though we weren't officially a couple."

"Why didn't you call? It felt like you'd abandoned me, and I didn't know what to think?"

"I got scared, and I thought I needed the time to sort out my feelings. I'd never felt that way about anyone, and I told you marriage wasn't good for cops' wives. I didn't want to upset your life unless I was absolutely sure, and I _knew_ you weren't even close to being sure about me."

I saw her swipe the tears from her face, her head tilted attentively.

"I know I've done some really stupid things during this relationship. I deliberately let you believe things were going on with me that weren't. I was wrong not to give you the assurances you so badly needed to have about _my _fidelity to you. But it was hard to give you that certainty to trust me when I had no reason whatsoever to trust you."

"Teri Gilman?"

_Why was she so damned stuck on that bitch!_ I couldn't care less about her. How many damned times would I have to defend myself before she believed me, and what the hell did it matter now anyway? It was time she knew the truth.

"You know, you have great instincts, Stephanie, so I'm going ask you—have you ever had any concrete evidence I've been unfaithful?" I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, shrugging my shoulders as I made direct eye contact. "In your gut do you really believe I've cheated?"

And goddamn it, the moment my eyes locked with hers I saw them instantly turn away. "Why won't you even look at me?"

"I don't know why I do that. It's just hard to look in your eyes. I feel so guilty."

"But you need to, Stephanie. You really need to."

I let her take her time. I knew the eye contact would be jolting after such a long time. Last night had been like a surreal dream. We'd made contact—and then some—but the room had been lit with candles. They hadn't allowed for the clarity brought about by broad daylight. I saw her eyes fill with tears again. I knew she was discovering something she hadn't known she had—my fidelity.

"Have I cheated on you Stephanie?" I wanted so badly to stare into her gorgeous eyes forever, and if I kept doing it, I would forget everything else and do just that.

"No, you haven't." I could hear the erased doubt mixed with the crushing guilt in her voice.

"Imagine that! Joe Morelli couldn't even think of being with another woman once he found his Cupcake again." I found myself a little in awe of my own fidelity, because who would ever have thought I could do it. For Stephanie, I would have done anything.

"Joe, I've been so horrible— such an idiot. I wish I'd realized it sooner. I know what this must be costing you, because this is what Dickie did to me. Never in my wildest dreams would I ever have believed I'd do it someone else—especially you! I knew how devastating this would be for you if you found out. _I_ didn't know _you _knew! Believe me, I wanted to tell you so many times."

"Why the hell didn't you? I would've rather known where we stood or didn't stand. I would've loved to have avoided the torture I've felt every fucking day!"

"I'm so sorry."

"What a sorry state of affairs—or non affairs as the case may be—huh?" I swiped at my hair, wishing I could pull it all out. I was so damned frustrated with her and with myself. I thought it would be a relief to have it all out in the open, but my body felt like every nerve was on end, and I couldn't seem to stand still. I saw Steph silently weeping. I felt I might as well go for broke.

"I wanted to marry you. If you were ever skeptical or in any doubt as to how I felt about it I think you should know I wanted to marry you more than I've ever wanted to do anything else in my life."

I wished I could go to her. I saw her reaction to my confession. She put her hand over her chest, and I heard her low, choked sobs. "I could never tell you. I had to act like it was casual once I found out about you and Ranger—that I wasn't really interested in settling down with anyone and especially you. Surprise! I didn't feel that way at all. You're the only woman I've ever wanted to marry." I couldn't hide the tears squeezing my throat.

"I never actually expected you to give up the bounty hunting when I issued that stupid ultimatum. It was to see if you would choose me. I wanted to know if you loved me enough to give it up. It was a big mistake, and I've regretted ever since having asked you. It was wrong of me. I would marry you if you were a Kamikaze pilot or a circus clown or an astronaut. The only thing I wanted was to have you in my life forever."

"Oh God!"

My heart pinged as I heard her tone filled with shocked regret.

"Steph, I pursued you. I practically stalked you after you captured me and cleared my name. I started chasing you. Do you remember? I was at your apartment every single chance I got. I showed up at your parent's house when the last thing you were expecting was me."

"I remember you were so irritating!" she recalled with a tearful smile, and I knew she had actually loved it as much as I had.

"I'd made up my mind. I knew you were the one I wanted, and I wasn't about to let you get away again. So there I was—your worst nightmare, showing up just about every day. I guess it was the only way I thought you'd accept me courting you."

"You were courting me? I liked it. I pretended to hate it, but I loved seeing you."

My heart lurched like when a cable car goes sailing down a steep hill in San Francisco. My heart always did the same damn thing every time Stephanie Plum told me she loved me.

"Me too. I loved being near you. I loved sharing your family dinners—as crazy as they were. And Grandma Mazur—what a woman! I loved how you're so much like her. I saw how you loved your family so unconditionally—faults and all. I knew you were the right woman for me, because I knew you'd love me the same way too."

Stephanie's eyes were gushing tears.

I felt alive with you! I loved discussing the angles of a case, pursuing clues, meeting up all through the day to touch base about the work we were doing.

And when you finally allowed me into your life to share your bed and make love to you, I was thrilled. It wasn't ever about the sex alone. I knew you thought it was, and, yes, I was a horny Italian bastard sometimes. But it was because I'd never had a woman I couldn't get enough of before. Everything changed with you. I only wanted you—forever—because I loved you."

"Joe, we can—" Her eyes shined up at me hopefully.

"I knew it scared the shit out of you. I knew you were hurt so much in your marriage to Dickie. I wish to God that Son of a Bitch had never set eyes on you!"

"I was afraid about us, because of our history."

"I knew that, and I understood. I wanted to make that history up to you. I wanted you to know I would never treat you so thoughtlessly again. I really tried to be as loving and understanding as I could. I wanted to always be there for you."

"You _have_ been Joe. You've been wonderful."

I knew if I EVER cheated on you it would be over. It was easy. I was determined to never let you be hurt like that again. No matter what it took I never wanted to see that look of betrayal in your eyes directed at me. I would never be the one to put that kind of pain back in your eyes."

I suddenly realized I was the one whose eyes were holding the pain. Shit, nothing like irony. What a kick in the ass!

"I always wanted to be clear about how I felt about you and my commitment toward you. I guess I let all those clouded, convoluted feelings about you and your dangerous job along with Ranger's constant interference and my expectations get in the way. As a result, I was never clear at all."

My hand hit the bookcase on the living room wall. I wished so badly I could go back and do everything over again.

I noticed Stephanie's body jerk with the impact the sound of my hand made.

"I wanted you to be safe. That was ALL I ever wanted. I didn't care if you could boil, braise, fry or bake water! I didn't care if you could do laundry or ever washed the damned dishes. I was never looking for a conventional ANYTHING with you. I wanted you just the way you were. I didn't want to change you or keep you from being who you wanted to be. You thought that I did, but I didn't."

"Oh, Joe."

"l loved the fact that you loved cake and donuts and take out meals! I loved waking up with you. I loved holding you at night. I loved your laugh and your crazy, self-deprecating sense of humor. I loved how you cared for my wayward dog so much you let him eat your favorite heels and your underwear. You accepted him as he is! I loved how we didn't have to define our lives by other people's standards or expectations. Together you and I could have forged our own path."

"I never knew that. I wish you'd told me."

"I thought I was in my own way every day we were together, but you never heard me."

I felt so sad. It felt as though I'd just delivered a eulogy to our relationship.

"I guess we never talked about things enough. I guess that's what made me run away so many times. Part of me wanted to stay, but I was too afraid," she said.

"I think we are both a little scarred by the past. I was hoping you and I would get married and have a couple of kids one day soon. A cop has to have something to pull him out of all the death and destruction that follows him every day. Coming home to you and Bob and Rex at night was a haven for me."

I cleared my throat to cut the emotion threatening to spill. "And yes, I wanted to have babies with you—not to trap you but to make a family with you. I would have been by your side every step of the way, running out to get whatever you were craving and letting you crush my hand while you were in labor. And once the babies came, I'd have been there to hold them, diaper them and be a great dad. I promise I would have."

"I've always thought you'd be a fantastic dad."

It surprised me to hear her say she'd ever _thought_ of me as a dad, because I was pretty damned sure she'd had no intention of ever being a mom. "The idea of having a little miniature version of us running up to me at night and throwing his or her chubby little arms around my neck was an amazing dream. I hadn't really ever had that dream until you, and I wanted it more than I ever realized. It was a good reason to be careful everyday in the trenches."

"It's a beautiful dream, Joe."

"You're not a precious bird to be caged. I didn't want a trophy wife in a glass case either. I've always known you were different, and it was why I loved you. If I wanted some kind of robotic wife, I'd have looked for a domestic slave not a gun toting, pepper spraying spitfire. I couldn't even imagine myself with anyone else. But apparently you could."

"No, Joe, you're who I wanted. I loved how we could hang out in sweats, watch a game and make love like crazy all night. I loved taking long walks in the park and having our shared insane breakfasts like cold spaghetti and cake."

I could take her at her word. I could change my mind and just start all over. I could forget all about everything if I let myself. I'd been doing great playing ostrich. Why not keep doing it and keep her in my life? But there was no escaping the gut wrenching truth.

"I wanted all of you, Steph. I can't trust you anymore. I can't imagine you being willing to give up all _his_ attention. He dotes on you like an over indulgent father. You need a car it's there. You need a bodyguard he's there. I've been grateful at times, because I've had peace knowing he had your back. Unfortunately, he had a lot of other parts of you too." I was treading on thin ice. We were talking about Ranger, and he was a volatile subject at best.

"I never meant for this to happen, Joe, I'd sooner cut off my arm than hurt you."

"I know. I'm so angry inside, but a part of me knows you didn't do this with malice. I believe a part of you did love me."

"I _do_, Joe. You have to believe me."

I took a deep breath. It'd been pent up way too long. "I tortured myself wondering what the two of you were really doing. Was he touching you, teasing you, flirting with you, fucking you? Was he in your head and your heart? Did he hold a place in your soul that I thought was mine? Do you have any idea how I felt? I pictured all of it, tormenting myself daily. The Maalox wasn't about the danger you were in. It was about whose arms you'd been in! It was about the two of you and how much it hurt me. Hell, if you were to get pregnant, I wouldn't even know if the baby was mine! Did you ever think about that, because I sure as hell did!"

I saw her almost imperceptible nod before she bowed her head.

"I don't know what happened to me. None of this should have ever happened. I know what you're feeling, Joe, and I know how devastated it must make you. I did to you what Dickie did to me—me of all people! It's unforgivable, and I really wish I'd never let it happen."

"I wish you hadn't either. I couldn't believe it at first. I didn't want to—and God knows I've done everything I could not to—but it was there in my face every single damned day. I'd think about what you talked about with him. I wondered if you'd come to me at night after you'd been with him all day or vice versa. I imagined you laughing with him, teasing him. Hell, the only things I couldn't imagine you doing with him were sharing Pino's sitting on the couch and watching a game! Did it even bother _him_ the fact you came to me right after you'd left him? Is he even human?" I couldn't believe Stephanie was settling for so little when she deserved so much more.

"Ranger accepted my relationship with you."

I couldn't even believe she said that! "Well bully for him! Doesn't that tell you what kind of man he is! He must really have _LOVED_ you to want you in another man's bed! What—did you do go from him to me and make comparison notes? Who kissed better? Which one of us came out ahead in the polls this week, Stephanie?" I couldn't stop lashing out at her.

"I don't compare."

"The hell you don't!" My eyes challenged her.

"I don't!"

"Oh no? Then tell me why he gets a free pass for everything! Why have you tolerated his constant interjection into our lives? He's bugged your cars and listened in on your every word. Hell, he's probably had surveillance cameras in our bedroom! What line in the sand did you draw for him? You never rejected him if he wanted to protect you. You accepted it all like manna from heaven. Shit, when I tried to do it you left me standing half naked in the road! Every time _I've_ expressed the need to protect you, I was accused of interfering and controlling you. How is he not controlling? He has a tracking device on you all the goddamned time! Who's been putting you in a cage? Not me."

I knew my temper was getting the better of me, but I was past caring. The bitterness and the pain had been lying deep inside me eating away.

"There was such a double standard between what was expected of me and what you haven't required of him! I never understood how you tolerated everything he wanted and nothing I wanted when it was pretty much the same thing."

She was so quiet, sitting there letting me rant. She looked like a lost little girl, and I felt bad for her. But I couldn't stop. She needed to see that Ranger was not perfect. She needed to know being with him was compromising her whether she saw it or not.

"Let's be honest. If I'd had those "see-other-women flings" you'd sanctioned, I'd have been kicked out on my ass!"

I saw the shake of her head, but her lips stayed silent. She knew I was speaking the truth.

"Have you ever given any thought to the fact Ranger may not have been faithful to you all the time? Doesn't it bother you at all? I mean if you _love_ the guy so much I'd think you'd want to know where the hell he is when you're settling for me. Doesn't it bother you that, more than likely, he's getting his jollies taken care of by prostitutes whenever you aren't available? You really think he's holding you in some sacred shrine and being celibate when you aren't around? If I were the one cheating on you, I'd be toast! But Ranger? Why he's Batman who does no wrong. Hell, he's probably immune to STD's _and _kryptonite!"

"Don't do this, Joe. it wasn't like that."

"Really? Then why don't you tell me what it was like? I've been going crazy wanting to know everything! Tell me—did you do one of us every other day or— God forbid—do you actually get two for the price of one on the same day!" I hated myself. I knew I was going too far, but damn her to hell for ruining our lives. How dare she say it wasn't what it was!

"I feel so dirty, Joe. You have no idea what this is doing to me!" I see her walking toward me, and to my surprise, there was no anger in her expression. Streaks of mascara-darkened tears were rolling down her cheeks as she reached out to touch my face. My knee-jerk reaction twisted my body away from her, and my eyes flashed a warning not to come near me.

"You think I want you to touch me ever again, knowing you've been all too happy touching him everywhere? Really! You haven't answered the question, Stephanie, and I think I have the right to know. Tell me, do you fuck me in the morning, him in the afternoon, and, hell, for all I know, Tank at night!" Yes, it had crossed my mind she had a friendship going with every guy at Rangemen. That's how insecure I'd become.

I felt my cheek being slapped hard. She was angry now, and that was good. I wanted her good and angry. I wanted her to hurt like I did. No, I didn't. I really didn't. I honestly didn't know what I wanted anymore.

"You're scum, Morelli!"

"And what would that make you, Stephanie?"

"I'm, sorry. I'm sorry. I was going to confess everything to you today—this morning. I had no idea you knew. I mean, I knew you suspected after Hawaii, but I didn't know you _knew,_ and it's only been Ranger. I didn't plan it—I swear!"

"Is that supposed to make it better?"

"No! Of course not!"

"You're in love with him."

"I thought so for awhile. It isn't what you think."

"Yes, it is. I saw how torn you've been. It's torn me up inside, knowing you've been in so much turmoil over your feelings for me and your obsession with him."

"I'm not!"

"You are! Damn it, Stephanie, just admit it! I'm so tired of you running to him, calling him, making excuses to be with him!"

"I don't want him anymore. You have to believe me, Joe. Please listen."

Her pitiful pleas were falling on deaf ears. "I wish I could believe one word out of your mouth." _But I couldn't anymore_. "I no longer trust you, Stephanie, and without that we have nothing."

"Joe, I would never do it again."

I heard the derisive laugh coming from my throat. "The hell you wouldn't! The minute things get tough between us off you'd go! Then you'd think you could justify your infidelities with rationalizations like we're broken up or I'm a tyrant. Who could blame you for being with your coveted Superhero! You've got so many escape hatches you should be a damned submarine!" I couldn't hold back the emotions any longer—I lost it. The tears flooded out of my eyes. Pain was oozing through every pore.

Steph lost it too. I guess, seeing me cry was too hard for her. I don't think I've ever cried like this. She's seen tears in my eyes before when I've had to go to a funeral and bury a fellow officer, but I'd never allowed the tears to fall until now. I needed to hold her more than I've ever needed anything in my life. I wordlessly reached for her, and she was in my arms in milliseconds. We just stood there wrapped in one another's embrace, cleansing our souls of our long held pain.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it this far. You're killing me here," I whispered into her ear, wanting so badly to kiss her hair.

"I miss you. I miss us. I got lost somehow."

"I want you to find yourself again."

"I don't know how," she admitted to me, gulping back another sob.

We looked into each other's eyes. She held nothing back. I saw her love for me—her sorrow and her pain. I knew she was seeing a reflection of the same in my eyes.

I don't know what motivated me next. I only knew somehow I had to help her one last time. I couldn't let her go without her knowing that even though she had become a stranger to me the woman I fell in love with was still there. I propelled her toward the bedroom, and she did a double take. _Don't worry, Cupcake_. I know sex wasn't going to fix us. Nothing would fix us. I guided her past the bedroom and into the bathroom.

I held her body lovingly with my left arm wrapped around her waist. With the other hand, I took a washcloth from the towel rod. I had to do this. She needed to know I saw through all her feisty, tough girl façade. I always had, and it was why I loved her so damned much. I hit the faucet, holding the washcloth until it was dripping wet and squeezed out the excess water. My fingers rubbed softly against her cheek, brushing the tears away. I held her chin in the palm of my left hand and gently began to wash off the remaining tear-streaked layers of mascara from her eyes. Her soft whimpering cracked at my heart. When the mascara was gone, I tenderly turned her toward the mirror while I looked deeply into her eyes.

"Look at yourself, Stephanie—really look. Don't be so afraid, Cupcake. You're still there. I've always known you were. We all get lost sometimes."

"I don't want to look. I can't stand looking."

I felt how she struggled with herself all the time. She was never at peace with who she was. I knew how that felt. When you believed you couldn't please anyone, least of all yourself, it haunted you and kept you from rising up and accomplishing more than you ever dreamed you could.

I could feel the wrestling of her body against my arms, but I held her steadfast. My sweet Stephanie needed to have some faith in herself.

"You said you felt lost. You hide behind your fears and the pain you've tried so hard to bury. And you've layered this damn makeup on like some kind of permanent mask, almost as if you were in disguise. The Stephanie I fell in love with didn't need a mask. Now look at what I saw when I met you—what I've always seen." I watched her try to look, but she kept stopping before it could happen.

"I don't want to!"

"Yes, you do. I'm right here, Cupcake. I promise you're going to be okay—just look."

She stopped struggling. I could see her eyes focusing on herself.

"Tell me what it is you see, Stephanie?"

"I see sadness."

"Why do you feel sadness?"

"Because I'm _so_ hurt. I've hurt for such a long time."

"I know, baby. I know." I hadn't allowed myself to use any form of the word babe or baby as an endearment for obvious reasons, but I used to call her baby and babe in the beginning. It wasn't like _he_ had a license to use the endearment exclusively!

"I remember feeling like my mother didn't love me as much as Valerie. Maybe it was because, I wasn't as pretty or as smart. Nothing I did was ever good enough, and even now, she wants me to be somebody else."

"You never need to be anybody else. You've always been beautiful and intelligent and full of spirit. I'm sure your mother loved you. She just wanted you safe and happy."

"I knew it in my head, but somewhere in my heart, I wished we'd had a better relationship. I felt like I was a big disappointment to her all the time."

"Steph, you can't change her, and I really don't honestly think she meant to make you feel so inadequate. You have to know within you that what she thought about you or how she approached you wasn't personal. It's all she knew. Being the daughter of someone like Grandma Mazur, I wonder if she hasn't felt pretty inadequate herself at times. You and Grandma Mazur are like two peas in a very avant-garde pod." I teased her, but it was the truth. Normal people paled in comparison to my girl and that crazy grandmother of hers.

"I guess I never thought of it that way. Maybe she feels as though she wasn't adventurous enough."

"So tell me what else is in those beautiful eyes."

I saw her looking, and I knew she was digging deep into her heart.

"Dickie hurt me terribly—not my heart as much as my, self worth."

"Yeah."

"I wasn't good enough for him, and he married me. Why in the hell did he want to marry me if all he planned to do was cheat?"

"He was an asshole."

"Yeah." She agreed with me, smiling a tiny, teary smile.

"He isn't worth a thought in your head, Stephanie. You were—and are—and always have been good enough. You have to stop thinking this way about yourself. You're so amazing. You've always been amazing to me. And I know I've been ranting and raving at you lately like some psycho lunatic, so now I've hurt you too."

"Why, Joe? You never used to make me feel so small. Why have you been telling me I'm not good enough if I really am? How can I believe what you're telling me now when you've been telling me for months how much of a failure I am?"

"It's because I've been so angry at you—not about the job but about Ranger. I've been pissed about the fact you turn to him all the time. I'd come on the scene whenever a car blew up or a fire or whatever the hell it was and he'd beat me to you every time. I couldn't control how it made me feel, and I was lashing out at you because of it. I'm sorry. I never really felt you were incompetent or a failure of any kind. Maybe I felt like one though, because when you start to feel as though you're losing the most important person in your life, you do crazy, rash things that don't even make sense. I felt the desperation to hang on to you, and all that did was push, you away."

"So you respected me and my work?"

"Yeah, I did. You've always had an amazing intuition, and you were so tenacious about it. Of course I respected and admired your bravery."

I paused for a moment, and then added, "Take one more look at that mirror, Steph."

"Where did you get this mirror stuff?"

"Police academy. We weren't allowed out on the street with a loaded gun if we were holding a bunch of unresolved baggage, so we had to endure a few sessions with a shrink in order to ensure we could handle ourselves and our anger issues."

"So you got through some of the stuff with your dad?"

"Enough. I wouldn't have made a very good cop wanting to kill any man who beat his wife and kids, would I?"

She shook her head at me in agreement. And I saw in her eyes, she respected me for admitting I'd needed help too.

"Why didn't you ever tell me this?"

"It's not in keeping with my macho image."

"You're an amazing man, Joe," she whispered to me softly.

"Yeah, whatever. Now back to you, Cupcake."

I caressed her body softly through the robe as she faced her own demons. I gave her all the love, support and assurance I'd withheld lately. "This is the girl I fell in love with. This is the woman I've loved. She's real and beautiful, and she doesn't need to hide it from herself or anyone else. She's worthy to be loved. She's everything she has needed to be. When she enters a room, there's no one who lights it up like she does. But she's not here very much anymore. She's been in hiding a long time, putting on some brave, phony front that's nothing like the real woman inside. I still see her, and when I do, I see my life, my wife, my love, and the mother of my children. When she's here, I see my partner and my equal. This other part of her –the one who acted deceitfully and carelessly and who became desensitized is a stranger to me." I wanted my Stephanie back. With every cell of my being, I wanted her back.

Steph was crying quietly. My voice was a soft cuddling whisper. "You haven't seen yourself for who you are, and maybe that's why you can never admit what you want or _who_ you want. I believe in your soul you wanted marriage and a life partner and children. I know you wanted everyone to think you didn't, but I know you. You are a woman who wants deeply to be loved and to be surrounded by her family and friends."

"You were so devastated by that sham of a marriage to Dickie that you gave up on ever finding what you dreamed of, and so you continue to run away from what you really want because you're so sure you'll never have it."

I saw a brief moment where I knew she wanted to deny my words and fight me like she always had, but she couldn't. Her eyes caught mine in the mirror, and she remained silent.

"It's funny, I've heard you say what a horrible mother you'd make, but I never saw anything like that when I dreamed of our future."

"I'd be really bad at it."

"You've never seen yourself as I see you. Don't you see, Stephanie, you're mothering everybody _all_ the time. My God, the strays flock to you like hungry pigeons to breadcrumbs. If you'd think about it, you'd know I'm telling you the truth. Mooner, Zook, Sally Sweet, and even Lula—you've taken them all under your wing. Hell, even some of the crazy people stalking you got Stephanie Plum mothering! Who else would buy her stalker a Pizza?" I laughed, fondly recalling the down-on-their-luck parade that had constantly been marching in and out of her life.

I saw her million-watt smile reflect back at me. "I like helping people. It makes me happy."

"I know, Cupcake. You're going to make a fantastic mother some day if you want it. I mean what kid wouldn't be charmed by you? You're sweet and funny and self-deprecating." I rolled my eyes to heaven smiling. "If your child said. "Mom I want to fly", you'd never laugh. You'd just find out what it would take to make him feel as though he was flying."

"I never thought about it that way." I could tell from her tone she was actually considering my words.

"You've just never seen how incredible you really are." My voice caught a little.

"I'm not!" She shook her head. "Look at what I've done to us!"

"You're confused and a little lost, but everyone goes through that sometime in life. You've lived in so much fear, and you've pretended it's not there all the time. But I know you, and I know you've been running from yourself. I understand it, because I've done it myself."

"You don't really hate me?"

"If only I could," I murmured into her hair.

"Joe, why haven't you ever talked to me like this before?"

"It would have been interpreted by you as pressure, and you wouldn't have believed me."

"I want to believe you."

"I'm glad." I nodded, trying to conjure up a smile. I held her close as we gazed at one another in the mirror. She wasn't looking away anymore, and it felt so good to be able to be honest about everything.

At least my head wasn't a jumbled mess anymore, and I'd said everything I'd ever wanted to say to her. I felt her hand stroking mine.

"I wish we could have talked like this a long time ago. I feel like such a fool for having run away all the time."

"It's okay, Steph. You were dealing with baggage, and I know what that's like. My dad left a pretty indelible mark on me too. I've been trying to wipe it off for years."

"You've done great, Joe. Don't let what I've done make you think otherwise. It wasn't you. I know now that you've been the adult in our relationship the whole time."

"That's not true. I've had plenty of tantrums and Italian fits, and I'm sorry." Is it possible that we could start over now? My heart is second guessing my decision. Maybe we didn't have to be apart after all? I mean we were talking, and I could tell that she was truly sorry for everything. Maybe we could make this work after all. If she loved me as much as I loved her we could fix anything.

"No! _I'm_ sorry! I never stopped running long enough to see what an amazing man you are. I don't know why I kept going to Ranger! I don't know why I left the best man in the world to go after one who couldn't even tell me he loves me without putting a qualifier on it! Oh my God, what have I done?"

I'd never heard her say that Ranger loved her. I knew he did by the way he looked at her, but I wasn't sure he'd ever told her. Now I knew. "I guess you fell in love with two men at the same time." The momentary hope I'd had faded, and died. I couldn't afford to be a fool twice.

"I thought I did." I felt her body turn in my arms, so we were facing one another. "Joe, I wish you had confronted me a long time ago."

"I knew the minute I did, everything would change for us—just like it is now. I've been lying to myself too. I thought I could love you more or better or longer or God knows what I thought! Somehow I thought it would end up being me. What a damned arrogant fool I was."

"You! It _is_ you, Joe!"

"I think what you interpreted as my over possessiveness was really my insecurity trying to will you to choose me."

"I do choose—"

I held up my hand to stop her from talking again, the temptation to change my mind, was warring within me even as I said the words. "I've made up my mind. This is over. We're over. I've waited on the sidelines for too long expecting you would choose me—afraid you'd choose him or choose to dump us both and move on with someone who was actually good for you."

I saw Stephanie's hands flail helplessly at her side.

"You're good for me."

"Not anymore. I think I was once. I was willing to do anything it took to make you happy. But it's cost me too much, and it's not safe for me to be that crazy in love with someone who isn't as crazy in love with me. I can't even function right on the job. It's dangerous to me and to the whole team."

I shook my head and those damned crybaby tears were coming again. "I can't." I needed to stop, because I heard the break in my own voice. "I can't do this to myself any longer. I can't pretend it doesn't matter to me. I can't be there on a daily basis watching you turn to _HIM_. You love me, but not enough to let him go. So I'm letting _you_ go. It's the right thing to do." My voice was hoarse from the effort to control the damned emotions. "Batman and his Wonder Woman—what could be more perfect, right?"

"NO!" She flew into my arms, her body clinging to mine, and all I wanted was to kiss her and hold her and keep her forever.

"Tell me what you want me to do? I'll do whatever you ask," she begged.

"I need you to stop." I forced my hands to remove her hands that were firmly draped around my neck. I removed them slowly and deliberately. I gazed longingly into her eyes. In them I could find the strength I needed—just as I always had. I'd never needed it more. "This is one of the hardest things I've ever done, so please don't make it harder." I turned away from her, forcing myself to head directly to the living room.

"NO! Joe, NO! Don't do this to us! Don't leave me! I knew someday you would leave!"

"I never wanted to—not ever."

"How can you say this to me after last night. I know you're hurt and angry, and I betrayed everything we've been to each other. I've screwed it all up! I know it! I couldn't stop myself no matter how much I wanted to. And I thought you might never forgive me after Hawaii. But last night you whispered all those words. You still love me, and we can work this out. You just have to give me a chance! How could you say all those things to me then take them back?" Her tone was confused, and an avalanche of tears was falling down her cheeks.

I turned around suddenly unable to stop myself. I took three strides to face her. My fingers gently brushed the tears from her cheeks. "Cupcake, I shouldn't have said them. I couldn't help myself, and I knew last night was the final chance I'd have to say everything I've wanted to say from the beginning. I just wanted you to know what's been in my heart for you. I won't take back one word. I can't. Every word is the truth. I knew it was my last chance to say them before I said goodbye."

"No! No, you can't do this! Joe, there has to be something I can do to change your mind. Tell me what it is!"

"You'll never give him up. He's too important to you. He's your mentor and your guardian angel—always there with a car, or a job, or a nice vacation in Hawaii. Hell, his name is sewn on your underwear!"

"Ella did that—not me!" She sounded like a little girl belligerently denying complicity in doing anything wrong. I couldn't help but smile sadly.

"You love him. He loves you. He doesn't want a commitment. You say you don't either. It's really a good match. You'll be free. I won't be there to stop you from doing anything you wanted to do. You always did want to fly, remember? Now you can. Nothing's stopping you. You deserve that even if you don't believe it."

I closed the inches between us, and my fingers wrapped around her neck and plunged into the luxurious curls I've always found so irresistible. I felt her body trembling against mine as I pulled her toward me for one last kiss. I wished I could pick her up and carry into the bedroom and make love to her forever. But instead I settled for that kiss, hoping my lips would convey what my words never seemed to be able to do. I felt her arms envelope me, and she deepened the kiss, opening her mouth hard against mine. She seized me to her so that there was no air between us. I heard the soft whimpers emitting from her throat. The kiss held everything we'd ever felt for one another. It was scalding and sweet, loving and angry, forgiving yet filled with so much passion, desire and longing that it left us both shaking. I tried to pull myself away, but her hands pulled me back to her, and our lips met again frantically, seeking sustenance for the last time. Now the strangled sounds I heard were coming from me, God, how in the hell could I leave her? I took the last bit of courage I had to force my lips to break from hers, and I pushed her out of my arms. It felt like a self-inflicted wound—like someone pulled the plug on my heart. I took one last jagged breath. I needed to utter the words I never wanted to say.

"You have to let me go. Goodbye sweet, Cupcake. I'll always love you."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Not my characters, no profit. **

**Thanks to Carol for her amazing Beta skills and being so kind to let me bounce my ideas back and forth. **

**Thanks to those who left feedback that I cannot directly answer. It means a lot. **

**Steph POV**

The door slammed shut, and my already wobbly legs gave out. I felt my spine slide down the wall as I hit the floor. Joe Morelli had just turned his back on me for good. He'd bid me goodbye like he never wanted to see me again. Goodbye? _NO! NO! NO!_ My heart felt like it had been strangled. I couldn't breathe. What had just happened? He let me go? _What the hell!_ I never wanted him to let me go! Oh my God, what had I done? All this time he'd known about Ranger, and he'd never said a word.

I swiped at the tears on my face, wishing I could stop this damn crying. I hated crying almost as much as I hated myself right now, but the sobs kept coming harder and faster. I could barely breathe because my chest felt like it had been trampled under the weight of a junkyard compactor. Oh God, I didn't want to feel such pain. It was crushing me! I couldn't believe this was happening.

A little nagging voice in my head admonished me crossly. _"What did you expect to have happen? You cheated on Joe. You lied to him! You manipulated everything about your relationship. Did you really expect him to love you forever no matter what you did? Why would you be surprised? This is exactly what you deserved! You've lost him forever."_

"Shut up!" I yelled at my conscious. "Joe loves me! He said it over and over last night."

"_Is that so? Then where is he? You wanted Ranger. You were so damned torn up over the Batman of Mystery you haven't seen straight in a long time. Joe was right. You've been comparing them like models of cars. You kept Joe on a string while you allowed the dangling temptation of Ranger to draw you in. And you went so far that you lost who YOU were and what you really wanted. You couldn't be true to anyone because you weren't even true to yourself!" _

_Mirror, mirror on the wall—who's the phoniest of them all?_

"I never wanted to lose Joe!" I cried.

"_Well you sure had a funny way of showing it! You've been acting like you had some huge choice to make when really it was your overblown ego talking! You loved the attention of two men at once. You enjoyed how you were desirable to someone like Ranger even though he's repeatedly told you he's emotionally unattainable to anyone. You wanted to be the one woman who could change him. You got a charge out of it like a shoplifter gets from stealing. You loved the thrill of thinking you were getting away with it without getting caught! Well how do you feel now? Are you happy? You've lost Joe. You'll never be more to Ranger than a sexual partner. The material fringe benefits will be there but absolutely zero emotional fulfillment—at least not any time soon. You're not getting any younger, and you surely can't act any more immature!"_

"_You knew all along you loved Joe. You put on the slinky black dress, and you chose him out of that damn bowl years ago! You peeked and chose him on purpose. You peeked for God sakes! What does that tell you? And Hawaii-you didn't even need a bowl then, did you? What in the hell is wrong with you! Why did you question everything in your heart? Why did you doubt what you knew was true all along? Why in the world did you hurt Joe like that?"_

"I don't know why," I murmured despondently.

I laid flat on the floor, curling into a little ball. I was trembling, and the chills felt like they were coming from the depth of my soul. Little hiccups remained as my sobs subsided. My eyes felt like they were on fire—burned to a crisp from all the tears I'd shed. I held my hand against the ache in my chest, hoping to assuage the pain.

There was nothing that would ever end this sorrow. Joe had left me. The man I'd loved my entire life was gone. When he'd confronted me about Ranger it had felt as if my life was flashing before my eyes—as though I'd been watching it happen from outside my body. I'd been powerless to stop the shock. I'd barely fought back. I hadn't fought for Joe at all. Maybe he'd still be with me if I had, but I'd seen the look of betrayal in his eyes. There were no words I could have said. I'd been blindsided. And I knew he'd felt blindsided too. For months he'd dealt with the repercussions of my infidelity, and he'd never said a word.

After everything that had happened last night, I thought we'd be okay. I thought he'd forgiven me for everything. I was going to tell him I wanted to give him what he had aways dreamed of—I truly was—and now I'd lost my chance. I would never know that happiness—never have a love like that again. No one could ever love me the way Joe did.

God I wished I could turn back the clock and change everything I'd done.

Splices of my life with Joe became a montage in my mind. I saw his face when I was six, and his smile when we were teenagers—and God help me, those moments stolen at the Tasty Pastry before he'd left for the Navy. I saw his face filled with astonishment and annoyance when I'd run him over with the Buick at eighteen.

I saw him opening the door of the apartment the first time I'd found him years later when I was trying to apprehend him as my first FTA. I remembered how my heart had jumped when he'd opened the door, and I'd seen him standing there in the flesh. He'd been gorgeous as always. The way he'd looked at me had proven he'd been just as shocked.

I could feel him kissing me again as if it were yesterday. He'd in the process of stealing my keys so I wouldn't follow him. I remembered the feeling of feverish heat imploding through my body when his lips had first touched mine again after so many years apart.

I found myself smiling through the tears when I remembered the funny things we'd endured together. He knew me so well. I remembered how ridiculous I'd felt when Mary Lou and I had spied on Morelli at his house, standing outside in his backyard to ensure our covert operation. I'd wanted to know if he was seeing anyone. I'd been crazy jealous with the mere idea of it. Mary Lou and I had been trying to see into the house, and I'd complained about him closing the curtains or something. In an instant we'd known he was right beside us, catching us in the act.

The sweet memories came in quick succession. The time when he'd tried to protect me by handcuffing us together at my mother's dinner table. I'd pleaded with him to let me use the bathroom, where I'd naturally opened the window and shimmied down off the roof—right into his waiting arms.

I loved how he knew me so well—how he could anticipate my moves and even see right through me sometimes. I realized he could see straight into my soul, yet he loved me anyway. Why hadn't I ever acknowledged it before? Why hadn't I been as sure as him? Why in the hell had it taken his walking away for me to see the truth—a truth I'd known all along?

Joe Morelli had finally become mine and would still be mine if I'd only allowed him into my heart. Secretly I had, but I hadn't been able to verbalize my feelings. I hadn't been able to admit how much I loved him. I'd been too afraid to allow myself that kind of vulnerability. I'd been afraid to give him my heart again, fearful he'd hurt me beyond any pain I'd ever felt. I'd never loved anyone the way I loved him—deep and sacred it was within my soul.

I recalled his face in last night's candlelight as he'd vowed to let me fly. Now I realized what he'd meant. He'd been giving me up so I could have what he thought I really wanted. Here I'd believed he'd been declaring his undying love to me, but instead he'd been evicting me from his life. He mistakenly believed it's what I needed. I didn't! Oh God, I didn't! He'd become such a part of who I was that I couldn't imagine ever feeling whole without him again.

How sweetly he'd slid into my life and my crazy family's dinners. Once he'd started having weekly meals there, it was as though he'd always had a chair reserved just for him. My mother had grown to love him. My father had grunted his approval and actually begun having conversations with him. They'd shared a common love of watching sports together. Grandma Mazur had thought he was super hot, super sweet and movie star handsome. He could do no wrong in her eyes. Even Rex and Bob had loved him as much as I did.

Now at least he had Bob. I'd be more worried about him if he didn't have someone to talk to like I had my Rex.

That brought to mind the first time he fed Rex in my apartment. Big, macho Joe Morelli had stood there naturally giving my hamster little bits of food. Who would have thought a grown man would even care about a little hamster? He'd melted my heart with his all-around, good-guy status. I'd known then he could never have murdered anyone in cold blood because he was a big old softie underneath that chiseled masculine façade. He was sweet, caring, wounded, loving, funny—and oh so damn sexy. He was my best friend, my lover and my life.

And I let him slip away because I'd been too proud, too stubborn and too afraid to ever let him know what he'd meant to me. I'd felt it in our last kiss that this was the end. I'd betrayed him, and he couldn't trust me. He no longer wanted me. I wished I could go to sleep and never wake up again.

**Joe POV**

I don't know how long I sat in my SUV after leaving Stephanie's. I felt numb—completely lost—exhausted. But it didn't matter. There was something else I needed to do as soon as I gathered my energy back. I needed to get through the next step of my decision. I made the call and arranged the meeting.

Finally I pulled out of Stephanie's parking lot and headed to meet the bane of my existence.

I picked a smoky little bar near the outskirts of Trenton. I didn't want a familiar audience. I didn't need the gossips to tell anyone this meeting ever occurred. I needed to know that what I'd done would be good for Stephanie—that she'd never be hurt by anyone again. I'd always felt an overwhelming need to protect her ever since we'd gotten together, and I still needed to ensure that would happen—perhaps now more than ever.

I ordered two whiskeys neat, and when they arrived, I placed one on the opposite side of the table. I swirled the amber liquid, sloshing it in the glass. I wasn't sure I'd be able to stomach drinking it. My insides still felt raw and jittery.

I looked up and saw Manoso standing by the leather booth where I was seated.

"Morelli. You look like hell."

"Manoso." He took the seat across from me.

I saw the stitches on his bruised eye and couldn't help but feel a little proud that they were there as a result of my hand. We'd ended up on pretty equal turf in Hawaii when it came to fighting.

"What'd you want?" he asked me, his eyes a bit curious.

"You know what I wanted, and you never gave a damn," I informed him, keeping my voice as even and unemotional as possible.

"I don't really think we need to discuss—"

"Yeah, we do. And you're going to listen to what I have to say!" My eyes bored into his. I wasn't afraid of him. In fact, I hated him more than ever. The pain in my throat was a boulder of jealously, choking me whenever I thought of him and Stephanie together.

"I don't really care what you have to say, Morelli."

"This isn't about me. It's about Stephanie."

I saw Ranger's jaw set. I saw his hand making a fist, but luckily he kept his mouth shut.

"I need to know that she's important to you—that you honestly love her."

"What I feel or don't feel for Stephanie is absolutely NONE of your business."

"It _is _my business, you _son of a bitch_! She's the love of my life, and what happens to her is MY business!"

"Whatever happens between you and Stephanie is between the two of you. What happens between Stephanie and me is between the two of us, and YOU are not part of that equation. Let's keep it that way!" Ranger's eyes were filled with defiance.

"Bull shit, Manoso! Did you really think you could separate this hellacious triangle by spouting unemotional crap at me? It only serves as an excuse for your selfish behavior! I've seen the way you look at her! I've seen you embracing her! Don't feed me this line you don't care about her! And don't you dare treat my relationship with her as if it means nothing!"

"Morelli—"

"I'm REAL Manoso—not some cartoon character in a comic book. I am NOT the villain. I'm just a man whose life has been turned upside down by YOUR actions. Stephanie was my love—my life! And you came in like some Batman out of hell, offering her cars and flirting with her until you swooped her away. You didn't give a damn about her relationship with me, and you didn't care who you hurt!" _Okay so much for me being calm, cool, and collected._

"Is that right?" Ranger's voice was like frozen ice.

I stared him down glare for glare.

"Are you finished?"

"No, I'm not. You and I should have had this conversation long ago. Stephanie _is_ Wonder Woman, yes, but she's also vulnerable and sweet and still innocent in many ways. She takes in strays and risks everything to prove how brave and loyal she is, but underneath the tough, take-no-prisoners exterior is a scared, scarred little girl. She needs to know she's loved unconditionally by whoever is in her life. She deserves some kind of commitment too, because I know her, and deep down it's what she wants."

"If she's the love of your life, why haven't you married her?" Ranger asked me flatly.

"She'd have been my wife a long time ago if you hadn't kept interfering, every chance you had. I wasn't about to marry the woman of my dreams with you fucking her on the side the whole damned time!" I was livid and ready to take that smirk off his sanctimonious face. I had to take a breath and remind myself that wasn't why I was there.

"As long as she hasn't made a commitment to you, all is fair in love and war."

I noticed the way Ranger's eyes darkened as he uttered the last word. I couldn't believe how detached he sounded.

"I'm not sure you know the first thing about loving Stephanie."

"I know more than you think!" Ranger snapped back at me.

"You think so, Manoso? Do you know when she can't sleep at night she likes the middle of her back rubbed lightly for just a couple of minutes then she drifts off to sleep instantly? Do you know when she's sick she won't take any pills and refuses to stay in bed? Do you know whenever she applies two extra layers of mascara on her eyes it's because she's trying to hide her fears behind a disguise?"

I saw Manoso's eyebrows wiggle. His expression was almost comical. I sure as hell wasn't in the mood to laugh.

"Do you know she's always hated to wear socks in bed because she likes the feel of the cold sheets on her feet? Do you know she detests tea, but loves coffee with cream and exactly two teaspoons of sugar? How about when she's eating cold cereal that she can't stand it if it gets soggy? She pours little bits at a time into the milk to keep it crunchy until the end."

"Morelli—"

"And do you know after she's nearly been killed in one of those damn FTA apprehension fiascos of hers, the hours into the night she trembles from the inside out, and that the only thing to stop her shivering is me holding her, stroking her hair and telling her I love her."

Ranger looked directly into my eyes. His jaw was hardened even more if possible.

"You've lived with her. I haven't, so it's true there are things I don't know about her—yet. So what?"

"Are you planning to get to know them, or do you just intend on keeping her at a safe distance so she can't get too close to your deepest secrets. What if she finds out her superhero has some very real issues—dark ones that would scare the hell out of her and send her packing if she ever knew the truth."

Ranger's eyes flashed his stubborn stance. "I'm giving her all I can. I'll protect her at any cost—financially and personally. I've let her into my life more than anyone else. That's the most you're going to get from me, so I guess the rest remains to be seen."

"You are so emotionally cut off, you can't even say you love her, can you?"

"Don't push it, Morelli."

"Why? I can see it when you look at her! Why not admit it?"

"She loves _you _too," Ranger's voice betrayed him, indicating a hint of jealousy.

"That's what's stopping you? You're human after all, Manoso. I was beginning to wonder."

"Enough, Morelli. I've always respected you professionally, and we've worked well together in the past."

"I did that for Stephanie. I thought it was the best way to protect her."

"Then we have that in common." Ranger's face softened a bit. It did nothing to soften my feelings toward him.

Ranger and I were nothing alike. I could never hide my love for Stephanie, and I didn't know why anyone would want to. "You need to find a way to be honest with her."

"_You_ need to mind your own business." I could tell Manoso was getting angrier by the minute. I could have cared less.

"If you won't commit to her, then maybe you're not the right man for her." I took a big swig of the whiskey, feeling the burn slide down my throat.

"And you're so sure it's you!" Ranger's voice dripped with sarcasm.

"I'm _NOT_ so sure it's you."

"What is it you want, Morelli? Let me guess. Did Stephanie finally get tired of waiting for you to declare YOUR intentions, so she dumped you?"

I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing anything. I was the one who had come for answers, and Manoso could go to hell if he thought I'd confide anything to him. He'd find out soon enough. Let _him_ sweat it out for a change.

My jaw tightened. "I just want to know what your intentions are exactly. I know what I feel for her. I know what I can give her. I need to know what you can give her."

I saw Ranger clutching at his glass with one hand, his knuckles red from holding it so tightly. "She hasn't complained about what I give her if that's what you're getting at."

"This isn't about fucking her, Manoso. It's about LOVING her and taking care of her!"

"I take very good care of her! There isn't anything I wouldn't do to ensure her safety. I think I've more than proven that to both of you."

"I'm not talking about surveillance equipment and cars, and God knows what else! I'm talking about what she needs in her heart and her soul!"

"What are you—her fairy Godmother? You're not her father. You don't need to know my intentions!" His fist hit the table.

I wished I could take him out back and kick his ass right then! He sure as hell never made anything easy.

"I simply want to know what it will be like for her if she chooses to be with you."

"If Stephanie chooses to be with me, she'll never want for anything."

I weighed his words. They weren't what I needed to hear.

"Are you ever going to make a commitment to her?"

"You're going too far, Morelli. I said all I'm willing to say. Stephanie knows the score. She knows what I can and cannot give her, and she's accepted it."

"Has she?" My voice was filled with skepticism.

"Yeah." Ranger nodded at me, his eyes daring me to challenge him.

Obviously I wasn't in my right mind, because I decided to let him know the agenda. If a hair was harmed on her head or if he caused her even one moment of sorrow, he would answer to me. And if Ranger wanted war, I'd be more than happy to give it to him.

"If she's with you, the cars she drives have to be legal. And everything you ask her to do has to be within the bounds of the law. You won't put her at risk in any way."

I paced myself, expecting Ranger to grab me by the collar at any moment.

I pointed my finger at him to show how damned much I meant what I was about to say. "If you ever hurt her by cheating on her again—and I know you have so don't even try to tell me you haven't. If you cause her one moment of pain, I will come after you so hard and with all my resources— which are many, Manoso. I've worked with the CIA and the FBI, and I swear I will take you down—all the way DOWN. I'll find every secret you've ever buried. I'll find every illegal thing you've ever done and make it my life's mission to take you OUT. If you live when I finish, you'll be in prison so long you'll regret the day you ever met me. Am I being clear enough for you?"

To my surprise, Ranger merely nodded.

We sized up one another for several seconds.

"Is that it, Morelli?"

"Yeah, that's it."

He stood for a moment, staring down at me. "You've got it bad."

"Tell me about it." I downed the rest of my drink in one gulp, and when I looked up, he was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 **

**Not my characters, no profit. **

**Thanks to Carol for beta reading this as always, you're the best. **

**Steph's POV**

It had been three days since Joe left me. I'd barely gotten out of bed for more than a few minutes to check on Rex and nibble on crackers. My stomach had been acidy and unable to digest anything more. The thought of eating something even remotely sweet made me nauseous. If I couldn't turn to sugar, donuts and cake for comfort, what in the hell would I do?

I couldn't bring myself to go into the shower because of the most recent memories it held. As soon as I touched the shower curtain, the last night Joe and I spent together—when he'd taken such beautiful care of me along with the next morning when he'd rejected me coldly—flooded me. I couldn't face any of it. The more I slept the easier it was to escape.

Soon I would have to unwillingly join the world again. I couldn't imagine facing everything I'd created without my Joe. I reached out for the phone countless times thinking maybe if I called him maybe I could reconcile us somehow. But I stopped every time, because I couldn't face his rejection again. Once was hard enough—twice was unthinkable.

Finally on the fourth day, I forced myself to get out of bed and into that damn shower. I'd never cried so much in my life. I felt assailed when the water hit my skin, almost as if it was mocking me. No matter how much water I used, I thought I'd never feel clean again. The only thing I saw whether my eyes were open or closed was my Joe. I couldn't escape it no matter where I looked. He was everywhere. He'd been there with me so many times. We'd made mad, passionate love in nearly every corner of my apartment. There was nowhere I could look without seeing him.

If I looked at the stove, there he was cooking dinner for me the first time when he was still an FTA. The fact he'd come back into my life after such a long period of separation had made it that much sweeter. I was afraid of the stirrings in my heart, and the mere thought of him had brought tears to my eyes. I'd missed him so much, and when he came back, it was as though he'd returned to me that piece of my heart I'd given him so many years ago.

He would bring take-out meals after work, and we'd end up cuddling together on the couch while watching a game. It happened so naturally, as though we'd been together our whole lives. He'd rub my feet or my back to help me relax, and other times we'd simply hold hands. We'd shared a life together, and he'd been there as much as he could both at the beginning and end of each day.

And I loved him there. It wasn't a worthwhile day if I went through even one without seeing him. Now each day would feel empty and lonely. I wouldn't be able to call him or text him or expect him to walk through the door anymore. Bob wouldn't be there to jump up on the couch and come between us right when we were engaging passionately with one another.

I'd betrayed myself. I'd betrayed who I was and what I believed in. I had never seen myself as cheap or as someone having loose morals. Growing up, I'd had a pretty good idea of who I was and what I wanted to be, but now I felt lost.

How could I stop feeling lost? Joe had been an anchor for me—more than I'd ever realized. There was never a time when I'd needed him he hadn't come to me as soon as he could. He'd always helped me in every way possible. He'd never complained. Yes, he'd made faces and tapped his foot and counted to ten more than a few times, but he'd never let me down. He'd researched information I needed. He'd warned me of potential danger. He'd been as patient and understanding as he could. Now understanding he'd known about Ranger all along, I marveled at how he'd kept going for so long without accusing or treating me unfairly. He'd always been a considerate lover. Even in the deepest moments of passion, he'd never hurt me—always making sure to protect me.

When I thought of the many months he'd willingly taken me into his arms—all the while knowing I'd betrayed him—it humbled me, and I realized too late how deeply he loved me. Men with Joe's background were proud and never allowed women to degrade or disrespect them, but Joe had been so different. He'd sacrificed his self-worth. He'd wanted to be with me enough to overlook his own tortured pain.

And how had that devotion been rewarded?

I shook my head. I'd ripped his heart in two. I'd seen it in his eyes—with every tear that had fallen down his face. I'd never seen him cry like that, and it made me feel like scum. How could I have done that to the love of my life?

I ignored my ringing phone. The machine picked up all the calls. I hoped against hope I'd hear Joe's voice leaving me a message. If he'd done so, I'd have picked up the phone and begged him to take me back.

When I finally played back the messages, there were frantic ones from my mom, Valerie, Lula, Mary Lou and Connie—with some background yelling from Vinnie.

No Joe.

God, I missed him so much. I could easily imagine him there with his sexy I've-got-to-have-you-now smile. I pulled on jeans and a navy t- shirt that belonged to Joe. I'd always loved wearing any article of his clothing, especially if it held the faint aroma of his aftershave. It felt a little comforting now to have that little bit left of him.

I wondered how long it would take before Joe met someone new. I knew it wouldn't be long because there'd been a constant fan club of woman surrounding him his entire life. I just hoped to God it was NOT Teri Gilman. She deserved a man like Joe even less than I did. Of course who was I to judge how badly someone else might treat him? I had the corner on the cruelty market. No one else would ever top me!

I wished I could crawl out of my own skin. I'd never been so disappointed in myself in my whole life. And seeing the disappointment in Morelli's eyes, wrenched my heart terribly.

I knew it was high time I grew up. I'd been a scared little girl long enough. And if I was to ever love myself the way Joe loved me, then the best thing I could do was learn from my mistakes.

I looked around my apartment and realized it wasn't the apartment of a grown thirty-something woman. It was the pad of a silly, wayward teenager. There was nothing cohesive, mature or sophisticated around me. I saw it as a metaphor of my life. I'd approached it all so casually. I hadn't picked furniture, put up artwork or refined it in any way, and I realized now I needed to take steps to improve myself—inside and out.

Why had I allowed myself to continue to be in constant danger? Was it because a part of me had some death wish? Whenever danger was imminent, I told myself I wasn't ready to die, but how many times did I recklessly put my life in harm's way?

No wonder my mother was always going crazy. It probably wasn't the job so much but the way I kept approaching it without any precision or expertise. I felt this huge surge of energy moving through me. Things were about to change! If I were going to continue to be a bounty hunter, then, by God I'd be the best kick ass bounty hunter Trenton had ever seen—next to Ranger of course. Mary Ellen Burrows had better take a number because Stephanie Plum was back!

I needed some professional training. I had the intelligence and the intuition, but I needed to stop making the same mistakes over and over again when apprehending FTA's. I needed to outsmart them—to take my life into my hands and stop letting it constantly explode in my face. I had to do this for me and no one else. I needed to feel worthwhile. I needed to be strong and pull myself up out of this negative funk.

I'd show the world who Stephanie Plum really was, and I'd show myself the woman I'd always believed I was. I knew that before I could ever give myself to anyone else completely, I had to give myself to me. I had to find a way to love who I was and stop running from everything that frightened me. Mostly, I needed to find peace within my own heart and soul.

Tomorrow would be a new day—not the day I was planning to have with Joe but a day to learn and grow and, most of all, be the woman Joe had always seen. I'd be whole again, and I hoped with all my heart I'd be happy someday too.

It was Monday, and I was ready to face the world. Okay, so maybe I was more ready to put a toe in and hope Lula wouldn't shoot it off by mistake.

I allowed myself ONE layer of mascara. I would give every bit of energy to my job by day and allow myself to be heartbroken and lost at night. I forced myself to put one damn foot in front of the other once I kicked my own ass out of bed. At least it was a start.

I'd taken a shower and was busy applying the thin coat of make-up when I heard the click-clack sound of my door. I tried to grab for my robe, but before I could, I came face-to-cleavage with Ranger.

I saw the smirk-curved tilt of his mouth and the gleaming leer in his eyes.

"Nice state of undress, Babe." He reached out a hand to push my bra strap off my shoulder, and I slapped his fingers away.

"Uh-oh. Not in the mood to play?"

"Hardly!" I stepped back from him, flushing with embarrassment. I suddenly felt the mortification I should have felt all along. I struggled trying to get the stupid robe on, feeling Ranger's eyes ready to undress me as soon as I got it tied.

"I thought you might have missed me. I've been out of town the last two days."

"I didn't even know you were gone."

"Babe." His voice gave away nothing.

"What are you doing here?" I asked surprised at how detached I felt. Usually the sight of Ranger in my bedroom—hell in any room—made my body flush and my knees go weak. But today I felt nothing but revulsion toward myself for allowing him an all-access pass into my life.

"Tank told me your car's been stagnant for a couple of days. Just wanted to make sure you were alive."

"Well, as you can see, I am." I folded my arms tightly in front of my breasts. He wouldn't be getting one little peek from now on.

"Babe, you look like hell."

"Geesh! Thanks!"

"Are you okay?" He took a step toward me in that stealth-like manner of his. I took three steps backward.

"I'm never going to be okay again."

"Morelli." He guessed.

"We broke it off for good." I heard the catch in my voice. Tears were not far away.

"And that's bad why?" I saw the glint of mischief clearly in Ranger's eyes.

"I can't believe you're even asking me that!"

"Okay, so when did this happen?"

"What does it matter?"

"I'm simply curious. I figured it was just a matter of time till you ditched him, so I thought—"

"Well you thought wrong! I would never have ditched him. NEVER!"

"How long ago did this happen?" Ranger asked again. Apparently he was annoyed he hadn't known sooner. Why, I hadn't a clue.

"It was four days ago." I was still reeling in disbelief, and I couldn't hide the tears any longer.

"I'm surprised." Ranger's eyebrows scrunched as though he was trying to figure out some kind of math problem.

"Really—surprised? Well,_ I_ was blindsided."

"So this was because of Hawaii?"

"What did you expect to happen?" I couldn't believe Ranger thought Joe would put up with this forever.

"Don't know—don't care." His eyes gave nothing away.

"You don't, do you! You really don't care about Joe in any of this. You pushed this crazy attraction I have for you—the hero worship—and you used it to manipulate me into having sex with you. You knew how much I loved Joe, but it never stopped you did it?"

"Babe, if you loved Morelli the way you should, it never would have happened."

_Guilty as charged_. What could I say? I felt overwhelming frustration toward both Ranger and me. "We were selfish and careless, and we hurt the man I love with all my heart."

"_You_ hurt him. _I_ didn't do anything to him. I'm pretty sure he doesn't love me."

"When in the hell are you going to take some responsibility for this? You act like you're so removed, but you bear some blame too. You can't just go around creating havoc in other people's lives and pretend you haven't played a part in it!"

"Babe, calm down."

"Calm down!" I heard the sarcastic laughter emitting from my throat. "I've broken the best man in the world's heart into tiny pieces. I've jeopardized everything I ever wanted—for what? A few moments of torrid, selfish sex with someone who's as emotional as a brick wall?"

"I think you've got enough emotion going for both of us, Babe," Ranger warned.

"Did you _really _ever love me at all?" I threw my hands up in the air. I guess being half-Italian and being with Morelli all that time had rubbed off.

"I told you I did. I've been very honest with you and have never led you on. Morelli's been a damned fool for letting you anywhere near me. He loves you, and he's good man. He's just been a complete idiot."

"No, Ranger, I've been the idiot. I love Joe. I loved the idea of you too, but I knew all along you were a dead end."

"I was always straight with you. I love you too, in my own way, and I can't give you more than that."

"You _won't_ give me more. And you know what? I never should have expected you to."

"That's true," he agreed in his ever-so-aggravatingly concise way.

I felt the ire boiling in my stomach. How could he be so damned detached?

"You are so cold. How can you make love to someone the way you do then act as though they're nothing more than a stranger the next day!"

"Sometimes they are strangers."

"Are you kidding me?"

"Babe, you didn't really expect for me to be sitting around waiting for you the last two years, did you?"

"No, maybe not during those two years. But lately?"

"What about lately?"

"You know, Joe asked me how faithful you'd been since we've been together so much recently, and I'd like to know too."

"What I am to you is NONE of his business."

"Well it is _my_ business. I want to know since we've been together in the last several months fairly steadily. Have you been faithful to me?"

"Uh, isn't that a little hypocritical of you, Babe? The whole time you've been with me you've been with Morelli. Fidelity isn't exactly high on your list of priorities."

I felt my face go hot, and my body instantly started shivering. "You've been seeing other women the whole time."

"We never agreed to be mutually exclusive. You can't expect that from me when you never were. I accepted you and your crazy attachment to the cop, so you need to back off on your expectations of me."

"Back off—that's exactly what I intend to do." I said in a detached voice, hands on my hips.

"So where does that leave us," Ranger asked with questioning eyes.

"I care about you. I always will. You've been so damned good to me. And I know in your own way you love me, but I need more."

"Then you should have stayed with Morelli."

"He doesn't want me anymore."

"You two are both delusional."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind!"

"I mind, Ranger. I mind a lot. What the hell do you mean Joe and I are delusional?"

Ranger's Adam's apple contracted. "It means you two deserve each other!"

I felt the tears rolling down my face. If only I did deserve Joe.

"Babe." I heard the apology in that one endearment. How could a man use one word to encompass all kinds of emotions? Who did that kind of thing? Joe called me Cupcake and did it with different tones—sexy when he wanted to make love or aggravated when he wanted to let me know I'd been thoughtless or impatient. But Joe also had a vocabulary that consisted of LOTS of other words, and right then I longed to hear them all.

Ranger reached out to touch my shoulder.

I jumped back. "No! You don't get to pretend you care. You don't get to poach any longer!"

"Babe, I'm sorry about Morelli. I know you have feelings."

"Do you Ranger? It's funny how those feelings never seemed to matter to you before. Did you know Joe knew exactly what was happening between us all this time?"

I watched Ranger shake his head

"He's a great cop; you've said it yourself. I was so stupid to think I was fooling him. And still he stayed with me. Do you know what that must have cost a man like him?" My eyes were spitting fire at Ranger.

"I know."

I nodded my head sadly. I couldn't totally turn my back on Ranger. He'd been my mentor and my friend, but he also needed to know anything else that had been between us was over. I could never go back to him knowing how horribly I'd hurt Joe.

"Joe loves me. He loves me more than I ever realized. And I've always loved him. He loves me more than I deserved."

"But you said it was over." Ranger's eyes narrowed.

"It is. That was entirely his choice—not mine."

"I see."

"I won't get him back, but I won't ever be able to be with you again either—not without feeling guilty about him. I can't let your limitations and emotional detachment of relationships entice me anymore. It's not who I am, and you know it."

Ranger nodded stoically. "Babe, if Morelli really loves you the way you say, and I happen to think he does, he'll take you back."

"You didn't see him or hear him. You don't know him. He'll never take me back."

"What can I do, Babe?"

"Stay away from me for awhile, okay? I need to figure out my life and where I'm going from here. As much as you mean to me, I can't have you around, causing confusion or interference." I felt those damn tears again. So many fucking goodbyes and nothing in my world was right side up anymore. It hadn't been for a long time.

"Okay." As always, Ranger's face was a mask. He never allowed anyone to see the real him.

"If you need anything, call Tank. He'll take care of you."

"Thanks," I said in a small voice. "I'm sorry if I hurt you in any of this, Ranger. I know you'll never admit it, but if you did love me, then I must have hurt you. I never wanted to do that to either you _or_ Joe."

"I know, Babe. Morelli does love you—more than you know."

"How do you figure that?"

"I just do."

"Do you really believe I'll have a chance to get him back?"

"Yeah, you will."

A single tear escaped. I wished there was a magic potion for stopping tears!

Ranger brushed it gently away.

"I'm sorry." I seemed to be saying those words a lot lately.

"I know." I heard his voice against my ear like a breezy whisper.

Ranger's hands went to my shoulders, and he pulled me toward him for a kiss. I couldn't get Joe's betrayed expression out of my head. All I could think of was how his eyes would shudder with pain if he were there to see Ranger kiss me again. I couldn't let it happen. I had to stop running away, and I needed to face my life head-on. I felt my body stiffen as Ranger's lips crushed against mine. I felt the temptation for a moment, but the strength I'd gotten from losing Joe and the determination I'd felt to never put that look in his eyes again won out. I pushed against Ranger and shoved him back. My eyes were on fire telling him to back the hell off.

"You really meant it? You want me to stay away?" he asked somewhat perplexed.

"Yes."

"Okay." Ranger's voice was stoic as ever.

I closed my eyes. I knew when I opened them again he would be gone.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Special thanks as always to Carol, who Beta read on her way home from her vacation. I really appreciate you, more than you know. **

**Thanks for the feedback especially to those I haven't been able to answer personally. It means a lot to know you are enjoying the story.**

**Steph POV**

I kept to my plan.

I committed to the shooting range twice a week. I signed up for a self-defense class on Tuesday and Thursday evenings the following month. I even planned to participate in the weekend field training classes at the Police Academy thanks to my dear friend Eddie who was teaching them that month. He'd begged and borrowed some favors from his cronies at the academy, and they'd agreed to let an inept civilian like me participate in the official classes given to police cadets.

I'm not afraid of my gun anymore, and I'm not going to be afraid of doing my job. I won't use it unless I have to, but my cookie jar will only have its company when I'm not out skip tracing. I valued my life, and I wanted with all my heart to change what I'd turned into the last few years. I knew some of my insecurity stemmed from losing the only job I'd been halfway good at as a lingerie buyer. It was silly because it was a corporate takeover that had weeded me out, but I realized now my ego took quite a blow when it happened.

Skip tracing wasn't my lifelong dream any more than buying under garments had been, but it had fallen into my lap and it paid the bills—at least for now. I really needed to give some thought to what I wanted to do—to delve deep inside and figure out what my passion was exactly. Okay, I already knew most of my passion laid with Joe. He was the only thing I'd ever felt passionate about for any length of time. Unfortunately that kind of passion didn't pay the rent. Even worse, Joe no longer felt mutually passionate about me.

All the experts say find something you love to do then figure out a way to make a living at it. Somehow that knowledge eluded me. I'd never been able to define what it was that truly made me happy. I remember in my twenties expecting it to become crystal clear to me upon graduating from college. Then when I hit my thirties a couple of years ago I prayed for the big "ah-hah, moment". After all, Oprah had them all the time. I thought I'd at least be entitled to have one.

All I know is it had better come soon. I'd wasted an awful lot of time settling for what came to me rather than _choosing_ what happened to me. I hoped this pro-active attitude toward bounty hunting would show the universe I was ready to grow up and come to some decisions about my future.

Deciding to stop putting off the inevitable, I headed over to my parent's house one evening for dinner.

It had been over a week and a half since I attended a family dinner. I just couldn't face them knowing what a disappointment I'd be to my mom. I also knew Grandma Mazur would be full of curiosity and questions, and I wasn't up to facing that either. I felt guilty of course, because a good half Italian/half Hungarian Catholic girl was supposed to go to her parents for dinner once a week. It had become such a tradition for me, I was sure it must be hidden in a Biblical passage somewhere.

My mother called at least once a day using her usual enticements of chocolate cake, pineapple upside down cake and even the thing she hated baking for us most—a decadent torte that took hours to prepare. I simply couldn't put it off any longer, or else she'd be at my place toting all kinds of food and armed with hundreds of accusations over losing the best thing that had ever happened to me in my entire life. What could I say in defense? She'd be a hundred percent right.

It was hard to walk through the neighborhood because I felt like everyone knew what had happened. Burg gossip traveled like the speed of light—sometimes faster, and I figured it was pretty common knowledge there was no more Joe and Stephanie. I wondered how many people were really surprised. They shouldn't be. After all, I'd moved in with Joe a zillion times—and moved out on him just as many. I felt ashamed of myself for putting Joe through so much turbulence. Everyone knew he was a good man, and most people truly respected him. They were very proud of their hometown boy and all of his accomplishments. That left me absorbing the stain of being the bad guy in the relationship. If that was what they thought, they'd all be right. I was indeed a very bad guy.

I pulled up to the curb in Big Blue. I won't even venture to guess if my own car was repairable or salvageable after its latest catastrophe. Probably I should just give up buying anything else and keep driving "Old Indestructible". I was convinced it was fate. No other car lasted, so maybe I should just give up and accept it once and for all. A nineteen fifty-three Buick had to die a natural death sometime right?

I saw my mother and Grandma Mazur waiting. And I saw my dad glimpsing over their shoulders. _Uh-oh_. They were worried. It took a lot for my dad to eject himself from his chair by the TV. He only did that when he knew there would be food served.

"Hi."

I tried to accompany the greeting with a smile. There was something about home. You can't hide who you really are from the minute you walk in the door. All the masks disappear, and you became the little child you were years ago. I felt that instantaneous naked feeling. It was like being over exposed. Everyone here knew the real me, and they loved me anyway. So it felt safe, and at the same time it made me feel unbalanced. I had no walls to hide behind, and it made me experience all the vulnerability I was so desperately trying to avoid.

They followed me into the house. The silence was undeniably abnormal. I expected a barrage of questions. I expected my mother to shove food at me. But neither happened. It was if they were waiting for me to say the first words.

I looked at Joe's place at our dining room table. It was set. _Oh God!_ They didn't want to believe it. Hell, I didn't either, but we all had to face it once and for all.

"It's true. Whatever you've heard, it's all true. Joe won't be coming over for dinner anymore." There I'd managed to get the words out of my mouth.

"Stephanie, do you want to talk about it?" My mother was uncharacteristically sensitive. She didn't berate me for my failure. She just seemed at a loss as to what to do for me.

"No, Ma." I shook my head sadly.

"Is it really over with Joe?"

"Yeah," my voice choked. The look of total concern on my Mom's face broke me up. She really understood what Joe meant to me. I thought she'd been anxious to marry me off to Joe, but I could see now all she really had wanted was to see me happy.

My mother was not big on demonstrative love. In fact, my whole family preferred to shower their love on the food at the dinner table. As I stood there crying in her kitchen, she did something very rare. She opened her arms wide, tears glistening in her eyes, and I fell into her waiting arms like a lost little girl. I'm sure I drenched her cotton blouse, but she kept on holding me, patting my hair and whispering that she was there for me.

"I know how much you love him," she said quietly.

"I do, Mom. I really do," I sobbed.

"Everything will be all right, Stephanie. He loves you too. I know he does. I've never seen anyone that in love before. Dickie Orr was never meant to be with you, but Joe, now that's another story."

"I hurt him, Mom—really badly. He'll never be able to forgive me for it."

"Never is a very long time, Stephanie. I wouldn't count him out. Sometimes men just need time. I really think he'll come around. I don't think he wants to lose you anymore than you want to lose him."

I stepped back, swiping the tears off my face.

"Why are you so sure?"

"Because he told your father and I shortly after he first started coming to dinner that you were going to be his wife someday. You had to leave early to go after an FTA and he stayed behind. We had a really nice talk. I believed him when he said it then, and I still believe it's true."

"Is that why you've been pushing me to marry him?"

"What other reason would I have?"

"I thought you wanted me to be a Burg wife like you, and you thought Joe was my last chance to have that happen."

"_Burg wife!_ No, I know you better than that, and Joe does too. He told us you were one of a kind, and he loved you because of that more than anything else. What mother wouldn't want her daughter to be loved that way?"

_Oh God!_ I needed to stop making so many assumptions about people and start talking to them instead!

Dinner was fifteen minutes late, and no one said a word about the dried ham and lumpy potatoes. My father looked up from his beloved food long enough to check out my red eyes and somber countenance. I saw his own eyes soften slightly, and his hand reached out to cover mine with a short comforting squeeze. It was all I could do not to burst into tears again.

My mom didn't even tipple through dinner. It was strangely peaceful and quiet with the space next to me so sadly empty. It felt like a hole bigger than the Grand Canyon. Catching Mom, Dad, and Grandma gazing at it from time to time, I realized they missed Joe's presence almost as much as I did.

Grandma Mazur must have been given strict orders to keep silent about Joe at the dinner table because it wasn't until after dinner that she followed me up to my old room in order to have one of our private heart to heart conversations.

I didn't know I had a visitor until I had just pulled my "Morelli Moments" journal out from the highest cubbyhole in my closet. I turned around, holding it in my hands, just as Grandma Mazur entered the room.

"Oh, you found it again. That's a pip of a book!" Her smile widened, and she nodded exuberantly.

"You've read this!" Somehow I wasn't entirely surprised. Grandma Mazur had a nosy way about her that never really annoyed me as much as amused and befuddled me.

"Of course I have—it's great reading. I especially love when you ran over Joe with the Buick. Talk about ballsy! That's like something I would do, even though I don't have a license!" she praised me, pride welling in her eyes. "And the first time at the bakery? Wow! I wish my first time had been that hot!" she added with a knowing wink.

"Grandma, you're something." Somehow it was okay that Grandma knew everything. She'd never judge me, and I knew she understood me better than anyone else, because in truth we were a lot alike.

"Are you and Joe really done? I heard at the hairdresser you two had it out and that Ranger challenged him to a gun fight right outside Morelli's house.'

"No, Grandma, it wasn't like that. Ranger wasn't even there. And we broke up at my apartment."

"That's a shame. I really am sorry. I heard he threw things and threatened to take Rex."

"Joe didn't throw anything, and Rex is safe at home. He knows I love him and would never take him away."

"Well what about Bob? He's like your kid. Are you two sharing custody of him?"

"Bob is at Joe's house where he belongs."

"You've loved that man your whole life. You can't be over him! Was it all because of Ranger, because that man is seriously HOT!"

"No, Grandma, I'm not over Joe, and it was because of me, not Ranger. It was _all _my fault." My regretful eyes once again filled with tears, and Grandma Mazur patted my back. We were perched on the foot of the bed, and it felt like old times. I'd spent a lot of time confiding the secrets of my life to Grandma Mazur. She had always listened so attentively—somehow making me laugh when I didn't think I could even crack a smile.

"It's never only one person's fault. You know, I bet Joe is thinking it's his fault. I bet if you just got together to talk about it you'd end up laughing and making up with all of that hot Italian stallion sex you two have!"

My eyes widened. Grandma Mazur was never shy about speaking her mind.

"It _is_ all my fault. Joe didn't do anything wrong," I confessed sadly.

Grandma Mazur's hand moved over my clenched fist. "There, there now Steph. I hate to see you so sad. Isn't there something we can do? I could go over and talk to him. He likes me—I know he does. I've caught him giving me those half-smiles of his all the time. At the very least, I amuse him. I think he'd listen to me. After all, an old goat like me has a lot of wisdom!"

"I know he likes you, Grandma, but he really doesn't want anything more to do with me. Please let him have what he needs. Promise me you won't go talk to him. He's in a lot of pain, and I caused it. He deserves to have the time he needs to heal."

"Are you sure about that? I mean, men never say what they really feel. They're about the most emotionally stunted specimen on the planet!"

I couldn't help but laugh, because she was right for the most part. Joe had been more emotionally mature than I'd ever given him credit for. "I lost him, and I don't think he's ever coming back. I'm not sure he even believes I ever loved him."

"Why, Stephanie—you've got your proof right here!" Grandma said, tapping the journal in my lap. "He'd never doubt your love for him if he knew about this."

"I don't think he'd even care anymore." I shook my head sadly, fingering the lettering on the front of the journal.

"That's not true! If you really love Joe, you should stop taking this lying down. Of course if he wants to have sex, you should lie down—that is unless you prefer it standing up, in which case it's good to have a nice sturdy wall behind you. It's especially good for bad backs."

"Grandma—"

"But whatever way you do it doesn't matter as long as you get back together. If I were you, Stephie, I'd go after my man. No matter who it is. Ranger is unquestionably hot, but Joe is hot, sweet _and_ madly in love with you!"

"You think so, Grandma?" I could never be sure whom my grandma preferred. She vacillated between Ranger and his Cuban inducing fever and Joe and his movie star, good-guy charm.

"Stephie, I've been sitting across that dinner table from Joe for years now, and I know when a man is crazy in love. That man is bonkers over you!"

I nodded sadly. "He was in love with me."

Grandma Mazur took my hand in hers. "You think he's going to get over you in a day—a week—a year! The two of you are so perfect for each other. It's going to take a lifetime or two for him to get over you!"

"You like him don't you, Grandma." I smiled, realizing Grandma Mazur had made up her mind a long time ago. I wished I had too.

"What's not to like? What's not to love? I like that he's strong and protective, and he's really funny— especially with you. He looks at you like you're the universe to him. And what I love about him most is how much he lets you be you."

"He does—doesn't he?" I knew in my heart he always had. I'd been stupid—_so sure_ he had an agenda for me that I hadn't taken the time to see he just plain loved me. Every action, every word he'd ever spoken had always included love behind it— even when it had been teasingly or angrily said.

"He's always loved me just the way I am," I said wonderingly.

"Yes!" Grandma exclaimed. "Joe is so much better for you—better than that ass Dickie Orr ever was. Stephanie, what man would watch you put yourself at risk every single day, run to your rescue all the time and then spend every spare moment he has with you? On top of that he let you drag him to your discombobulated family dinners on a weekly basis!" she finished her point beautifully.

"So you think he's the right man for me?"

"Without a single doubt!" Grandma stressed adamantly. "You know I like Ranger. He's hot, and hot is good—very good. But being hot only lasts so long in a relationship. Joe is a long-haul kind of guy. _That's_ the kind of man you need in a marriage. If you're out for excitement and some thrills, Ranger's your man, but you need to understand it won't last. He's not the commitment-making kind."

"You're pretty smart, Grandma."

"When you've lived as long as I have you'll be pretty smart too. Besides, since I've been taking those love potion classes, I figure I'm tuning into my intuitive side a little more. You want to know what I see?"

"What?" I couldn't help but smile. She was such an amazing lady. I'd been incredibly lucky to have a grandmother like her. I don't think I'd have gotten through my life without her.

"I see a strong, determined woman who isn't afraid of anything anymore. She knows what and _whom_ she wants, and I see her going after them with both barrels! _That's _the granddaughter I know and love! Don't let anything or _anyone _stop you—not even yourself. If Joe had a twin, I'd go after him for sure!"

"There's only _ONE_ Joe, Grandma."

She sighed dramatically. "I know. Maybe we could clone him." Her eyebrows raised with a scary smile as she wringed her hands in anticipation.

I gave her a huge smile and hugged her lovingly.

"Lately I've been thinking about reincarnation, and when I die, maybe I can come back about the same time you and Joe have a baby. Of course I couldn't be related to you because that would be incest, so I'd have to be the child of one of your friends, but then I could go after _your_ son. Now wouldn't that be something! I'd have myself an Italian Morelli stallion, and we wouldn't have to clone Joe after all!"

I hardly knew what to say. I just did what I always did whenever she left me speechless—I smiled and rolled my eyes.

Deciding the Morelli Moments would be safer at home with me, I slipped the journal into my big black bag. I didn't want anyone else to share the most private moments of my heart. Grandma Mazur would be the only person to ever see those childhood dreams of mine.

It wrenched my heart too much to realize those dreams would most likely never come true.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Not my characters no profit made.**

**Carol, you continue to amaze me with your writing and your beta skills, you are so sweet to do this for me! **

**Steph POV**

I was pretty lucky I'd caught the Rug when I did, as my commission had resulted in a nice hefty paycheck. It was perfect really, because the last thing I wanted to do after all that had happened with Joe was skip tracing. I would have to get back to it soon enough, but having a decent cushy balance in my bank account would enable me to return to work in my own timeframe.

I needed the extra training before I went back to the never-know-what-to-expect job I had. I wasn't about to keep putting myself at risk. I'd caused enough stress for my family—and honestly for myself. I was lucky my mother hadn't had a heart attack. Hell, I was lucky I hadn't had one either!

I called Connie the day after Joe walked out. I told her I needed some time off and that I didn't know when I'd be back. She assured me she would handle Vinnie and told me to call if I needed anything. She didn't pry or try to talk me out of it for which I was grateful.

If Vinnie had a problem with my extended absence, well too damn bad. He had other people he could call on, including Lula, who could handle the easy FTA's by herself. My stellar record spoke for itself. I may not have been an expert at my job, but for some inexplicable reason I'd been pretty successful. I needed time to re-evaluate my life, and in order to do that I needed to avoid the inquisitions I knew would come from Lula and Connie. Once I showed up in person at the office, they'd want to know every gory detail of my life.

Okay, so I was being a coward. It was just really difficult trying to deal with everyone's reaction. I didn't want anyone to feel sorry for me. I'd made my bed, and I had to face the consequences every single day. I didn't need anyone to remind me of what a fool I'd been.

It was about eight thirty in the morning, and I was thinking about going for a run when I heard a light rapping on my front door. I knew that it wasn't a Joe knock, but I peeked just to make sure. I needed that moment to prepare myself for whoever had come to see me.

There stood my best friend Mary Lou with a Tasty Pastry box in her hands. Relieved, I opened the door for her.

"Hey Steph, I thought you might be hungry. I just dropped all the kids off to school, and I really needed to spend time with an adult."

She excused her presence lightly, but I knew better. She'd heard the news and was there for me like she'd always been. If anyone understood my feelings for Joe, it was Mary Lou. She'd witnessed all the ups and downs I'd had with him since we were kids.

"I'm not too sure you've found an adult, but come in anyway. I've got coffee."

She walked a few steps into my apartment and simply stood there, not saying anything. I could never fool Mary Lou. She knew from experience that all she had to do was look deeply into my eyes and I'd immediately start spilling my guts.

"I blew it all to hell!" I figured those words pretty much covered everything.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Of course I do!" I smiled feebly as my tears began again.

She followed me into the kitchen and instead of me playing hostess to her, she got the coffee and cream into the mugs, and then led the way back to the living room. We sat on the couch and she opened the bakery box filled with all my favorite donuts—Jelly and Boston Crème, plus chocolate and vanilla éclairs. I was fine until my eyes rested on the chocolate cupcakes with bright rainbow sprinkles, but then I lost it completely.

"Oh shit! What was I thinking? I told them to give me some of everything! Then my cell phone rang, and it was Lenny. After that I didn't even pay attention to what they put in the box!" Mary Lou's apologetic face swam into focus. "I'm sorry, Steph."

"It's okay. I'm just a basket case. Don't worry about it. They look delicious." I let out another choked sob.

"What happened this time?" Mary Lou asked. I couldn't believe she didn't already know every detail. The Burg gossip chain took only minutes to ignite. Once the gossip spread it was like an uncontrollable fire snaking out in all directions, twisting and exaggerating a hundred times over. I knew by the time it got to Mary Lou she would have had a pretty good idea about was going on—or rather _no longer_ going on between Joe and me.

"I hurt him terribly. I totally screwed up everything we had."

"People do that in relationships. It's not the end of the world. I've heard the rumors, but I didn't believe them. I know you Steph, and I know how much you love Joe, so what I heard can't be true, right?"

"What did you hear?" I asked while Mary Lou helped herself to a donut. I didn't even want a bite of one. And when had I ever _NOT_ wanted a donut?

"I heard you've been seeing someone else—Ranger. I also heard Joe found out when he went to surprise you in Hawaii, and he ended up in the hospital for three days and nearly died because Ranger beat him up and you stunned gunned him. That isn't _all _true is it?"

My eyes were filled with remorse as I looked at Mary Lou. "He only went to the emergency room, and he was released right away." I bowed my head.

"Oh my God, that's the only part that isn't true?" She asked in a low and sympathetic voice.

"Pretty, much."

"Why in the hell haven't you ever told me you had feelings for someone else? I mean I knew you thought Ranger was hot, and who wouldn't, but you were having an affair with him? I had no idea! I _am_ still your best friend aren't I?" she asked, and I could tell she was more than a little hurt by my failure to confide.

"Of course you are, but the Stephanie you know and love is not the same woman who slept with two men. I never could get up enough courage to tell you because I thought you would hate me. I knew at the very least you'd be disappointed in my behavior."

"I could _never_ hate you. We're friends for life, remember? It can't be that bad," Mary Lou was trying hard to give me the benefit of the doubt.

"It's worse!" I confessed. "It's been going on for a very long time, Mary Lou. It started out innocently enough. In the beginning, Ranger was just my mentor. I turned to him for help with my job because I admired and respected him."

I ran a hand through my curls in frustration and continued, "I had Joe back! You of all people know what that meant to me. I never allowed myself to dream we'd be together someday. It felt surreal to think he was actually a part of my life again. I loved that we'd finally come full circle. It felt right. But you know me—I had to question all my emotions and deny I really had them at all. I started running the minute I realized I was in an honest-to-God-this-could-go-somewhere-relationship."

"Doesn't sound like you at all," Mary Lou's eyes crinkled teasingly.

I tilted my head, nodding sheepishly. "I was fighting the feelings I had for Joe, and it became apparent I had a great rapport with Ranger. He saw it too. After a while he started to flirt, and I flirted back, and one thing led to another. I was wowed by the life he led—how he lived it. And he was always there for me with a car or his men to protect me. He even gave me a job at Rangeman when I badly needed one."

"So those slick black cars I've seen you in are all his?"

"Yeah, whose did you think they were?"

"Well at times I wondered. I figured they couldn't be loaners from the insurance companies."

"Hardly," I scoffed. "They were all his. I think because of his attraction to me, along with his concern for my safety, he began to give me a new one whenever I needed it. Between bombs and fires most all of them were wrecked, and he just kept supplying me with more. He'd hand me the keys and didn't give a damn if I wrecked it or drove it off a cliff. I never even had to ask. Can you imagine? I mean it was enticing to have that kind of power at my fingertips."

"Okay let me get this straight. You were with Joe, and you two considered yourselves a couple. What did Joe think was happening when you were taking new cars from Ranger every other week? And how in the world did you get Joe to sanction a job by Ranger's side?" I could see Mary Lou was a bit taken back by my arrangement with Ranger.

"He didn't like it too much, but he gave in pretty easily because he knew better than to fight me on certain things. He also was pretty sure I'd be safe. He was willing to overlook his feelings about me being close to Ranger if it meant I wouldn't be in danger. As for the cars, he was mostly worried they hadn't been obtained legally."

"So you were working for Ranger, a questionable character at best and obviously not one to follow the letter of the law from what you've said. In addition, you were driving Ranger's possibly stolen cars and all the while living with Joe who's a cop."

"Right," I admitted trying not to squirm.

Mary Lou had a talent for stating things with blunt honesty. I realized now I should have told her everything a long time ago. There was nothing like a best friend to tell you when you had your head up your ass.

"Wow, Joe Morelli must be trying out for sainthood. Do you know what my Lenny would have done if some other guy was giving me numerous hundred thousand dollar stolen cars to drive? And he's not even a cop!"

I nodded, grimacing.

"Go on, I'm sorry. I promise not to interrupt," Mary Lou said, taking a big bite of her jelly donut.

"The truth is after the first few months with Joe things heated up more between Ranger and me. I never meant to let it happen. The first time was over three years ago. Joe and I were in one of our "off" modes. It was shortly after we'd officially become a couple. Ranger and I had a purely professional relationship up to that point."

I closed my eyes at the memory. "I was head over heels in love with Joe and barely gave Ranger a thought back then. It was a dream come true to be that close to Morelli—almost too good to be true. We traded ideas and opinions on cases, and it was like our energies were so in synch we could almost finish one another's sentences and read each other's thoughts. My skips always seemed to intersect with his cases, and we just naturally worked together. I was having the time of my life being near him every day. When our relationship became intimate, it was everything I'd ever dreamed it would be and more."

"So what happened?" Mary Lou prodded me along.

"I guess I got scared. I started to doubt my feelings for Joe and his for me, and I got interested in the mystery of Ranger at the same time."

Mary Lou's eyes were focused on me as she listened intently to every word I said.

"At first it was just flirting, but then it became a lot of _heavy_ flirting _and_ kissing. Ranger helped me get this aggravatingly elusive skip. And I stupidly made a deal that I'd sleep with him in exchange for the help. I wasn't even sure he'd collect on the bet, but it turned out he was serious. I paid the debt in full when he decided he was ready, and to be painfully honest, I was dying to know what it would be like to be with someone so different and so intriguing. I couldn't get the desire under control. I tried. I really did."

I saw Mary Lou bite her lip, something she did often to keep her mouth shut when she felt she should.

"It happened when Joe and I were in one of our "off" times. In my head, it made it okay, but in my heart, I felt like a dirty, rotten cheater. It wasn't like Joe and I were ever apart for long, and it was as close to cheating without cheating that you could get. I never told Joe, and he never asked."

"So this whole thing with Ranger started when he blackmailed you into bed with him. Wow—nice guy."

"It wasn't blackmail. It was more like a business negotiation." I felt stupid saying it. Why hadn't I seen how crazy it was when it happened?

"Business—uh huh…" Mary Lou grumbled.

"I was just as responsible. I wanted him too. It wasn't _all_ his fault."

"Yeah, and I bet he figured he could get you right where he wanted you—especially if he knew how upset you were over being in an off stage with Joe. Where was Ranger's respect for YOUR relationship with Morelli?" Mary Lou hit the nail on the head as usual.

"He knew about it from the beginning and didn't really care. He isn't big into committed relationships, so it was fine with him that I was otherwise engaged."

"Engaged? Funny you should use that word. Ranger certainly knows how to entice a woman," Mary Lou commented sagely. She shook her head, a befuddled expression in her eyes. "Steph, you know I love you, but what the hell were you thinking?"

"_My _thinking was off. I let myself be enticed by the physical temptation of Ranger."

"What happened after you slept with Ranger? Did you tell Joe about it?"

"No, I couldn't. I thought Joe would hate me, and I was pretty sure he'd kill Ranger."

"So you never told him, but you ended the fling with Ranger?"

"Yes and no." There was no simple answer here. "The next two years, I was faithful." I had to stop myself. I'd been lying so much I hardly recognized it anymore when I did it. "Okay, honestly there was non-stop flirting and stolen kisses that made me nothing but a cheating slut all along. I fooled myself into believing the kissing and flirting wasn't doing_ IT_, so it wasn't _really_ cheating! Oh God, Mary Lou. I've been such a liar—to Joe—and to myself most of all."

"You should've told me about all this. I wouldn't have judged you, Steph, and I might've been able to help you through it. If you'd talked to someone maybe you would've understood the motivations behind your confusion, and you wouldn't have gotten so mixed up."

"I know, but I've been so ashamed. I mean the whole time I was with Joe and actually thinking of marrying him, only to turn around and cheat like there was no commitment in my heart at all. I didn't think he seriously ever wanted to marry me, but at the same time something deep inside of me knew if I ever gave him a yes, we'd be married in a heartbeat. I was so confused. There were times I thought Ranger loved me in the same way as Joe. I fooled myself all that time."

"Stephanie, our minds do that. It's not just you. Many people go through that kind of turmoil. Because of insecurities and baggage from our past, we allow doubts and thoughts to go wild, and we all do stupid things we regret later."

"I put Joe through way too much. I thought he wanted a Burg housewife, and I was nothing more to him than a dog-sitter and a housecleaner. I really fooled myself into believing all he cared about was sex. I projected all of my assumptions onto him without ever really talking to him about any of it and avoided commitment like it was the plague."

"Go on," Mary Lou encouraged.

"We started fighting about stupid things like peanut butter and toast. It escalated to fighting about my job, and he'd yell at me whenever our paths intersected. It just seemed like he really wasn't still as in love with me as before. I had no idea he was dealing with my infidelity the whole time. If I'd known how much he was hurting, I'd have understood he still loved me, but I never had a clue. I've been so damned self-centered it's a wonder Joe ever loved me at all."

"Oh Steph." She sipped her coffee, and then plunked it down on the coffee table. "No wonder he was yelling all the time. I've always known he loved you, but I had no idea he'd stay with you even while he knew you were seeing someone else."

"Hindsight is always twenty-twenty. In the last few months everything went crazy, and I let it get out of hand. Ranger and I started up again, and we had a full-scale affair. I was so confused by the physical attraction and my supposed love for him I never saw what was right in front of my eyes. I couldn't stop myself."

Shaking my head miserably, the tears started again like every other time I reflected on how weak and thoughtless I'd been toward Joe.

"So how did Joe know?"

"He's a cop, Mary Lou. I gave him plenty of clues—my body language and the constant lack of eye contact. If that wasn't enough, he'd seen Ranger and I embracing from time to time. I was so convinced he'd never know anything I took stupid chances. Ranger kissed me in public places. Hell we even did it once in his car during broad daylight in some alley. I was crazy to think Joe never knew anything I was doing. I sure as hell made it easy for him to find out everything. Who knows—maybe a part of me really wanted to be caught!"

Mary Lou's eyes couldn't hide her astonishment. She had no idea what a traitor her best friend had become.

"So the affair with Ranger continued in Hawaii. Why did you take him and not Joe?"

"When the trip to Hawaii came up, I asked Joe first. I really wanted to go there with him. I'd known all along it was Joe I was in love with. You know how much I've always loved him, but I was so afraid of the commitment I knew would come with Joe. I was completely screwed up in my thinking, but I realized when I decided to go to Hawaii he was the man I wanted."

Mary Lou nodded but remained silent.

"I'd even made up my mind to tell him how much I'd always loved him, while we were there. Unfortunately he couldn't come because of work. It hurt like hell. I really thought he'd want to take that time with me, and I couldn't understand why work had to come first for him all the damned time. I left for Hawaii, and again I wasn't thinking clearly."

Mary Lou handed me a Kleenex so I could blow my sniffles.

"I saw a skip at the airport. We'd been after him for a while, and I knew he needed to be extradited to the mainland. I'm not qualified for that, so I called Ranger. I swear in my head I thought it was just business."

My leg began to jiggle nervously and my stomach churned as I recalled that infamous week in Hawaii. "We ended following the skip to a couple's only hotel. It was gorgeous there. As usual, one thing led to another. We'd been playing around back home every chance we got before the trip, and because of my hurt that Joe hadn't come with me, I felt like if he didn't want me and Ranger did, then why not."

"Oh boy." Mary Lou's eyes rolled.

"I've never told Joe this part, but I'm telling you. Even while I was there, it was Joe I wanted to be with. One night when I was wrapped in Ranger's arms, I called out for Joe in my sleep. I started kissing Ranger, and I was murmuring Joe's name. I don't know if I'd been dreaming about him or what. It had never happened before, and Ranger was _not_ happy. I'd like to say we had a big fight but how do you fight with someone who only utters three letter words one after the other. So for the next day and a half we didn't speak and avoided one another as much as it's possible in an all-inclusive, _couple's_ resort. It was extremely awkward between us, and for two nights he slept on the couch."

Mary Lou's mouth tightened. I could tell she wanted to say something derogatory about Ranger, but she controlled her emotions and remained quiet.

"We eventually reconciled our differences without really resolving anything. Ranger's known about my relationship with Joe from the beginning, but he didn't care. He said he loved me in his own way. He actually suggested after our time together that I go back to Joe. I agreed, and that's what happened. But I was torn. I really thought I loved Ranger too. I knew he had no intention of marrying me or offering me anything permanent."

"Steph, you always wanted something real. You wanted Joe. You'd never be happy with half a man who can't even commit himself to you. I know you, and yes you wanted to be Wonder Woman, but you also wanted Joe. I don't think you ever considered being without him our entire youth. Even when you married Dickie Orr, I knew you still loved Joe."

"You're right I did. I always have. It was just scary to be in the actual relationship and not really know if we were ever going to be married. You know I wanted that. Even as much as I denied it he's the only man I've ever wanted as my husband."

"I know. Keep talking, because I know there's more." Mary Lou patted my knee knowingly.

"Ranger and I kept the silence between us up for nearly two full days. Then finally he grunted some kind of apology, and I capitulated easily. The sex with him was amazing. It was like I became a damn slave to my overactive libido. I was in it for sexual pleasure and no emotional fulfillment. A part of me knew it all along, and another part of me—who I didn't even recognize—didn't care. I was desensitized and cruel. It was like I was somebody else. What I did to Joe reminds me of someone who commits a crime and can't even remember doing it afterward. It was almost like I wasn't in my own body, heart or soul most of the time. I really _was_ lost."

Mary Lou shook her head sympathetically.

"It's funny because the whole time I was fighting with Ranger all I could think about was Joe. I wished he'd come with me to begin with, and I felt as though it meant he didn't want me anymore. Of course that set off a whole bunch of insecurity and doubt."

"And you've been setting off the doubt and insecurity in your mind for a very long time." Mary Lou knew all too well how many times I'd doubted myself through the years.

"Shortly after the spat with Ranger, we resumed the sex again. And _that's_ when Joe barged into our room. I'm sure he had to flash his badge at the front desk to get in at all. When I saw him standing there in the doorway of the room, I was shocked! I realized in that moment how much he really did want me. He'd flown all night just to spend the last two days there with me. And there I was cheating on him with Ranger. Poor guy—instead of surprising me he was the one who got the big surprise. Ranger and I were wearing wedding rings that we'd gotten for our married couple's charade. Joe took one look at us, and he went crazy. He attacked Ranger."

Mary Lou's eyes widened predictably.

"They fought each other like angry tigers. It was two alpha males going at it—fighting furiously. I had my stun gun, and I used it on both of them. I had to stop it before one of them ended up dead."

"Oh boy," Mary Lou said again. I guess there wasn't a lot more she could say.

"You said it! I took off on the next plane. I was a big chicken. I couldn't face either of them, but it was Joe I ran from more. I saw the look in his eyes when he first walked in, and I felt horrible."

"I don't believe it!" If Mary Lou didn't understand, she should join the club because neither did I anymore.

"Believe me, it's the truth," I said as the embarrassment of my actions washed over me again. "It didn't stop in Hawaii either, Mary Lou. I continued to cheat on Joe after we all got home. I felt so guilty, and I was so afraid to face the truth about myself in all of this. I stayed in denial, and when Ranger touched me, I was putty in his hands. I was sure at some point Joe and I would have some horrendous fight, and he would scream and yell and send me packing. I guess I didn't want to lose both of them. Ranger didn't care about Joe enough to even show jealously. I knew he wouldn't reject whatever I still wanted to offer him, though he offered me absolutely nothing in return. So I just kept up the deceptions, figuring my days with Joe were numbered anyway, and as it turned out they were."

Mary Lou didn't know what to say. I could tell from her dumbfounded expression she was trying to make sense of my actions and me in her mind. Good luck! I'd been trying to do it for months with no success.

"So what ended up happening? When did you and Joe have it out?"

"Joe knew I was still behaving deceitfully. He came to my apartment to talk about it, although I didn't know that. We ended up having one of the most intimate evenings we'd ever had. He confided things to me he'd never said before, and I really thought we were going to make it through everything. He's loved me as long as I've loved him. I was ready to make the ultimate commitment to him. I would have given up Ranger entirely. I knew without a doubt it was Joe I'd always loved and would always want."

"If you and Joe had such a great night and everything was better, how did you end up in splitsville?"

"He knew it was his last chance to spend intimate time with me, so he pretty much bared his soul. He told me everything he'd ever held back. He was so amazing! He was the Joe I'd been dreaming of forever. I was so damn sure after that night. We didn't hold back anything during those midnight hours."

"I still don't understand. If, you were that close, how did it turn into the end?"

"He decided to let me go. He was sure I wanted to be with Ranger—that I wanted to fly—and he said he was going to make it happen. That was his way of saying goodbye." My eyes gushed with tears as my voice broke. "I didn't see it coming. The very next morning he confronted me about all of it. He was so hurt and devastated by what I'd done to him. The pain in his eyes—I've never seen him so sad. And he cried Mary Lou. I've never seen a single teardrop on his face, not even when he's been at a funeral."

"It's because he loves you so much, and he didn't want to lose you."

"_Now_ I know."

"So you two really had a knock down drag out fight?"

"Not exactly. It was more of a talk—sort of a cleansing for him and for me. Of course he got angry, and I cried a lot, but he was so sweet to me. He broke things off, but he left me with so much to think about. I've been having a few epiphanies about my life and the motivations for my behavior. Joe was absolutely, loving toward me in the end. I wanted him to stay forever, but he left. He walked right out the door."

I felt like I might lose my best friend over this. Mary Lou was an old fashioned girl, and in my heart I knew she wouldn't like what her best friend had become. She'd always thought Joe and I were meant to be, and she liked Joe. I didn't know how this was going to affect our friendship.

"Boy Dickie Orr did such a number on you, Steph. Do you even realize most of this behavior is a result of what he did to you?"

I looked up into Mary Lou's eyes—so soft and understanding. She wasn't judging me.

"I know what I went through with him caused me to have a deep mistrust of relationships, and it hurt me that someone who was supposed to love me could treat me so thoughtlessly. Now look at me, Mary Lou. I've done exactly the same thing to Joe!"

"And Joe knew and said nothing?" Mary Lou was obviously having the same trouble wrapping her mind around that point as I was.

"Yes, he loved me enough to take me as I was— faults and all. He made love to me knowing all the time I was involved with Ranger."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

"A man doing that—I mean you broke up so many times. And in all those fights he never gave you a clue that he knew?" Mary Lou was obviously in awe of Joe's acceptance of me.

"No."

"Wow. Stephanie that man loves you like crazy. A guy doesn't let those kinds of things go on. I mean he was sacrificing his own ego. Men don't do that! Did you two have an open relationship so that you both saw other people?"

"No, Joe knew he could never cheat, and he didn't. I did that all by myself."

"He's one in a million." Mary Lou looked straight into my eyes. "You do know that right?"

"Oh God do I know!" Tears poked behind my eyes. Damn it, crying had become my new hobby.

"What are you going to do?"

"What can I do? He broke it off. I begged him not to leave, and he did anyway. There's nothing left to do."

"Bullshit!"

"What do you mean bullshit?"

"Exactly, what it sounds like. Are you in love with Ranger or not?"

Mary Lou was in take-no prisoners- mode. I'd experienced it before and once she got that look in her eye, I knew better than to challenge her.

"Not." I answered simply. "I really thought I was. I had all these convoluted feelings. I care for Ranger. He's my mentor and a friend. He's been protecting me for years, but he's about as emotionally supportive and talkative as the Royal Guard at Buckingham Palace. He's so into his own Karmic redemption he has no room for real honest-to-God relationships. I fell for the dark-and-mysterious-perhaps-I-can-be-the-one-to-change-him crap."

"Stephanie, this hero worship you have for Ranger—it's not real. He's never going to give you what you want. Now if you're truly in love with him and you're pining away for something you'll never have with him, then maybe you don't love Joe the way you think you do anymore."

"But—"

"The thing that bothers me most about the relationship with Ranger is how little respect he shows toward you. It makes me angry to see how he's toyed with your affections for him. You're worth having a man who's willing to make a commitment to you. You don't believe it sometimes, but deep inside yourself you know it's what you want. If Ranger can't give you the things you need most then whether you love him or not—is he really the right person for you? Furthermore, if he really believes you love Joe then why would he do everything in his power to undermine your relationship, knowing full well how much Joe means to you?"

She was back to looking me directly in the eye. "Stephanie, if you really, truly love someone you do everything you can to make them happy even if it means giving them up." Her wise eyes assured me how much I'd been loved—by Joe.

"That's what Joe did for me." I shook my head, realizing the man who truly loved me had made the ultimate sacrifice—by letting me go.

"Exactly. Steph, you know I love you, but if you want a lasting, fulfilling relationship in your life, you've got to start realizing it takes compromise. You can't expect it to all be the way you want it. There has to be a give and take on both sides. I know how much you've been hurt, but I also know how stubborn you can be. No matter what a man does—as long as you have this huge chip on your shoulder, he'll never be able to make you happy. I think poor Joe has been beating his head against the wall for a very long time."

Mary Lou looked at me, and the friendship we've had glowed on her face. She would always tell me the truth unvarnished—pure and simple. And I loved her for that most of all. She had a long lasting relationship, and I respected her loyalty to her husband and her family. I was determined to take her wisdom and apply it to my life. I could freely admit my faults to her because I knew she'd never hold them against me.

"I fought Joe every step of the way no matter what he wanted. I made my needs take precedence over almost all of his. He wasn't that unreasonable. He wanted me to buy the bread and keep bacteria-free peanut butter." It all seemed so damn trivial now that I'd lost him.

"I ran away, kicking and screaming over every little request. I realize now what he wanted above everything else was for me to be safe and happy. I rebelled at every little thing that ever came up between us, wanting to hold all the power in our relationship. I wanted him to know I wasn't ever going to mold myself to fit into his expectations."

"I think Joe knew that going in," Mary Lou's eyes rolled. "Everyone who loves you already knows that about you. But you also have some of that chip because of how Joe treated you too. Have you truly forgiven him for the past? He's not an eighteen-year old boy anymore! I know for a fact the last thing he'd ever do is hurt you now. He's all grown up. You have to let him be the man he is."

Her voice implored me to see the truth. "He's turned into one hell of a good man! He's changed his life. It took so much for him to pull himself out of the inherited habits of his dysfunctional family. He could have fallen into their same old patterns, but he's the _ONLY_ one who hasn't—the only Morelli man that had the strength of character to do it."

Mary Lou really had high regard for Joe—more than she'd ever divulged to me.

"He's really something isn't he?" I could only agree. "I messed everything up for both of us."

"At least you see it, and now you can do something about it."

"I didn't even see what I was doing. The fear always took over. I turned my back on what I've always dreamed of—Joe. He's the only dream, the only passion I've had my whole life."

"So it's Joe you love?" Mary Lou asked, and I could tell she already knew my answer. I'd had the same answer since I was six.

"What's not to love about him?" I answered woefully.

"I'm so happy to hear that." Mary Lou smiled widely.

"What good does it do me? He's gone. He said he was done with me. I don't blame him. I just miss him so much. He won't forgive me, and why should he?"

"He loves you—that's why."

"I love him too, more than I even knew."

"And he must understand about Dickie. I mean he knows what a jackass he was and how badly he treated you."

"Of course he knows."

"Don't you see Steph? That's why he let this go on. He knows how damaging that relationship was to you. I know Joe wants to marry you. Everyone has known it for years."

"I didn't," I admitted, wondering how everyone else had always been so sure."

"You didn't because he wouldn't let you see what it did to him every time you went running away. I bet he was afraid to really show how much he wanted marriage because he knew it would send you packing. Let's face it, Steph. You packed up and left him plenty of times. You can't blame him for being scared."

"Thanks a bunch, Mary Lou I hadn't thought of that!" I couldn't help the sarcasm.

"But you always went back to him. No matter how many times you left and no matter how involved things got with Ranger, you never could leave Joe completely."

"So?"

"Joe knew that too. That's why he kept up the pretenses. You're his other half, Steph. You always have been. Whether you've wanted to admit it or not, he's yours too. And _you've _always known it. You two belong together!"

"I wish I'd done everything so differently. I wish I hadn't been so damn selfish."

"Tell him that!"

"I can't go anywhere near him. He made it pretty clear he wants to move on."

"Just because he might want to, doesn't mean he will."

"Mary Lou, I have to let him go. He asked me to do that, and it's the only thing I have left I can do for him. He deserves someone way better than me."

"Well that might be true." Her eyes laughed as she said it. "But my gut tells me he's stuck with you." She hugged me in one of her mama-bear embraces.

She'd always been the mature one, always the one on solid ground. I deeply valued our friendship. I wished I had talked to her about all of this, ages ago.

"I'm here if you need to talk, and I'm here when you're ready to get him back. I miss the old days. I'm up for spying too if you want to make it another covert operation. I've still got my black leather outfit."

"Like that worked out so well." I shook my head.

"He's not gone yet, Stephanie. As long as he's single and available, you have a chance. I don't think you and Joe are over—not by a long shot."

We shared a tentative smile. I hoped in my heart it could be true—that maybe with any luck Joe would find it in his heart to forgive me for everything and we could start over again.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

**Not my characters. No profit.**

**Carol, you are such a gem to Beta this for me. Thanks so much.**

**Steph's POV**

It'd been two weeks since Morelli left me. I felt like a satellite that had spun out of its orbit and was trying desperately to re-enter the earth's atmosphere. I just had no clue how to do it. At times I felt like I was going to crash and burn. Other moments found me hoping I'd somehow land safely. Every day there was so many ups and downs I lost track of which emotion was which.

I was trying to rebuild my life bit by bit, and today's heartache therapy included spending an entire Saturday morning cleaning my apartment. Cleaning was a great way to get rid of all the pent-up energy I was constantly fighting. I was always at loose ends. If I didn't find something major to occupy me soon, I'd probably end up doing something crazy like climb a mountain and repel off it without a rope or scale the side of an eighty-story building as a window washer.

For sure I didn't know where the restlessness was coming from, but I didn't want to give it too much thought either. Usually all my thoughts ricocheted right back to Joe. I simply couldn't get him out of my head, heart or soul. I didn't know what to do to lessen my need for him, but somehow I had to find a way.

Out of the blue my doorbell rang that morning, and I couldn't help but have an instantaneous hope it might be Joe. Geez, I wished whoever it was had called first seeing as I was wearing ripped jeans and an old sweatshirt and my hair was tied back into a messy ponytail. I tried to straighten myself up a bit in the hall mirror before answering the door.

Peeking through the peephole, a sharp ominous pain hit my stomach. It felt like I'd been sucker punched. What on earth were Eddie, Carl and Big Dog all doing there together?

"Hi," I offered tentatively after opening the door.

The three men stood in a neat line dressed in full uniform. They took off their police-issued hats as if it had been pre-rehearsed and hesitated to speak. In that brief moment, I thought my world had come to an end. Police officers only make house calls when they're summoned to an emergency or to notify relatives and loved ones if an officer is down or lost. Today was Saturday. The chance of all three, of them would be on duty over the same weekend was zero.

"Oh my God, tell me it isn't Joe!"

Eddie stepped forward and caught me just as my legs gave out and guided me to the sofa.

"NO! Oh God, Steph I didn't even think of that. We had to attend the damned Police Benefit Breakfast this morning and were ordered to be in uniform. Geez, why didn't one of us think of that!" he admonished his friends for being so ignorant.

They waited patiently for me to catch my breath as it took several minutes. The mere thought of Joe being hurt or worse had shaken me to the core.

I looked up into Eddie's eyes expectantly ready for some kind of explanation.

"Joe hasn't been shot or anything, but this is about him."

I took one more deep cleansing breath and scrutinized all three of them, wondering if they were ever going to tell why the hell they'd come!

"It's about Joe," Carl confirmed again.

"What happened? Is he missing or in trouble?"

"Not exactly. It's just—"

Big Dog interrupted, taking the bull by the horns. "He's in a drunken stupor from pining over you, and we can't get him to come back to work."

"He's not working?" I repeated the words, trying to digest them. When had Joe _ever_ not worked? This was serious. He'd foregone vacations and even gone to work deathly ill on numerous occasions. In fact, his personal and vacation days had accrued enough over the years that he could take a full six months off if he wanted.

"Nope. He called in sick the day he broke up with you and hasn't worked since. He won't let us in or take any of our calls. We leave messages that he never returns. His mother is pulling her hair out. His brothers tried to get in, and he punched Tony in the nose. He's refused to see anyone—even Grandma Bella who threatened to put the eye on him!" Carl explained, pacing my clean but bleak living room.

I still couldn't wrap my mind around this revelation. "Well I'm sure he'll come back when he's ready."

"No, he won't even talk to the Captain who's threatening to fire Joe if this goes on much longer. His cases are piling up, and we're short staffed as it is," Big Dog explained. Throwing his hands into the air, he went on the offensive. "This is because of you, Steph. He's going to lose everything if he doesn't snap out of this. You two need to fix this situation NOW!"

Carl cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Steph, exactly what did you expect to have happen? You played games with him until he didn't know which end was up, and now he's a mess. Won't you fix this? Joe deserves better."

I knew the guys at the precinct were angry with me. There'd been none of the usual whistles and barbs when I'd brought in a couple of insignificant skips yesterday with Lula. She'd nagged and badgered me into it, claiming she wanted my help and wouldn't take no for an answer. I'd gone with her half-heartedly, warning her ahead of time I wasn't going to talk about anything. Fortunately the two apprehensions went down easily without incident. We went to the police station, and my heart had been in my throat the whole time worrying I'd run into Joe. At the same time, I'd felt sick to my stomach for fear I might not see him at all, and I'd been disappointed when I hadn't.

Usually everyone delighted in teasing me and even betting on what was going to happen to me next. Instead I'd noticed the quiet stares and the whispered voices. I'd felt sad about it because in my heart I knew they blamed me for Joe's unhappiness. They were loyal to him, and his "precinct brothers" would stick by him no matter what. It was how things worked among all of them—mostly unspoken but still deeply understood.

"You're right; he does deserve better," I agreed, feeling about an inch tall.

"So do something!" Eddie chimed into the conversation. Eddie was probably my best friend next to Mary Lou, and the recriminations I saw in his eyes made me feel guilt-ridden and totally responsible.

"I can't. He doesn't want to see me ever again. He made that pretty clear."

"He doesn't know what he wants! He's confused, and his heart's broken. Have you ever known Joe to shirk from responsibility? He's got it so bad for you he can't function." Eddie's eyes showed his frustration. "We've tried to get him to at least have a few beers at Pino's, thinking it might be good for him to get out and maybe talk about it. He won't set foot in the place, and you and I both know it's because he doesn't want to run into you."

Eddie was usually the one I could count on for support and understanding. This felt so wrong. I realized my actions had caused a rippling effect on many other people. I should've known better. God, I wished I could undo everything and fix my life like they wanted me too, but there was nothing I could do anymore. Joe was calling the shots, and he'd made his decision. I had to live with it—and so did they.

"I haven't been to Pino's since we broke up either, and I won't go there. He can go and enjoy his life. Don't worry, I'll stay away."

"NO!" they all yelled at me in unison.

"I don't understand. You blame me for what Joe's going through, and I've just told you I'll stay out of his way. I'll call you to come and get my skips so I don't have to run into him at the precinct. If you want, I'll even have Lula go in to get the receipts. I promise he can go back to work without running into me. I owe him that much."

"NO!" They yelled again in stereo.

Eddie took the lead. "YOU need to go and see him and fix this! Nothing else is going to make any difference. He's literally killing himself over you—drinking all the time and not taking care of himself at all. His neighbor called Shirley to tell her he hasn't even taken in his mail or his papers. He's in a bad way, Steph, and you have to do something! Hell, I don't know if he's even walked Bob!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I instantly felt the jabs of worry and concern. Joe never let things get him down for long. He might get a little sad or depressed, but he was always able to snap out of it with a little cajoling from me or teasing from the guys. The man they were describing wasn't the Joe I knew at all.

The decision was easy. I had to see for myself, as I really didn't believe what they were telling me. If it _was_ true, then he needed someone to go over there and make damn sure he stopped this crazy behavior. I knew in my gut the guys were right. I was the only one who would be able to get through to him.

"Okay, I'll go see him. I need to get the rest of my stuff anyway."

They murmured their grateful thanks and picked up their hats to leave.

"I'll be along in a minute." Eddie cranked his neck toward the door to get the other two to leave us alone.

He sat down on the sofa and turned toward me with deadly serious eyes. "Look, Steph—I need to tell you Joe punched his brother because Tony was pretty damn happy when he heard Joe had dumped you.

I felt embarrassed. Tony wasn't my favorite person, but I didn't blame him for wanting to protect his younger brother.

"He said things about you—about how you cheated on Joe and weren't good enough for him and how it was a good thing Joe had finally gotten some balls and kicked you to the curb." Eddie watched to see how I would receive this information. I merely let out a deep sigh.

He continued, "I guess Mooch and Paulie had to pull Joe off of Tony. They were afraid he was going to kill him."

"I didn't know."

It wasn't unusual for the Morelli brothers to fight, but they always knew when to stop. Pushing buttons and tossing punches was normal. Taking it so far they had to be pulled apart for fear of murder wasn't.

"Steph, if you're not sure of what you want, then please don't go near Joe. He needs a woman who's as sure about him as he is about her. A cop can't afford to have his mind divided all the time. Do you even realize how much he sacrifices at his job for you every day?"

I nodded my head in understanding though I was really only beginning to see it. I valued Eddie's opinion, and I wanted to hear everything he had to say no matter how painful it was.

"He gets a call about you being in trouble or in danger, and he races to your side. He drops paper work and murder investigations to make sure you're in one piece. He never waits to hear from us. Hell, you _know_ how many times he's come to be with you! It's a wonder he hasn't had an accident on the way half the time. He speeds from one end of town to the other just to make sure you're still alive. I can only imagine what goes through his head and heart not knowing what he'll find when he gets there. _Everything_ he does is for you."

I nodded again. There were no words to describe how stupid I'd been.

"Afterward he's always behind. Paperwork piles up, and he has to go back to the scene of whatever crime he left and start all over again. Has he ever complained to you or said anything about that fact?"

"Never."

"Doesn't that tell you something? He's on the hot seat for it sometimes too. The Captain has tried to understand, but it's not normal for a homicide detective to leave the scene of a crime to rush to a girlfriend. I mean you're not even his wife. And let me tell you, when the paperwork gets behind, it's a bitch!"

"I know."

"So when he's been late coming home or stuck on a case, did you ever consider you're the reason for it? He might be able to get his work done if he wasn't, constantly having to run to rescue you."

"I never expected him to do that, Eddie."

"Yes, you did! How many times did you call him yourself? Of course when he got there, who else was always by your side—Manoso. How do you think that makes a man feel? Joe can't ignore you because he'd never forgive himself if anything happened to you. He loves you and needs for you to believe he cares. My God, Stephanie—the man is practically certifiable over you and lives in terror of losing you to that mercenary!"

"How do you know that?" I would never have expected Joe to confide in anyone about being insecure. That wasn't like Joe at all.

"He wouldn't remember what I'm about to tell you, because he and I had imbibed a few too many one night at Pino's. But he said some things. In fact, quite a few things, so believe me—I know!"

"I wish you would have told me sooner."

"Well I'm telling you now. His heart is dedicated to you, Steph. _Never_ doubt it. He doesn't even look at anyone else. All he talks about is you. He loves you and is damn proud of your accomplishments."

"He is?"

"Of course! We may all joke at the precinct about you and the predicaments you get into, but the few times it's gotten a little out of hand he's defended you in no uncertain terms."

"He's been amazing," I agreed, feeling like an ungrateful, spoiled brat.

"You said it! And you know what? I'm glad he put his foot down. It's about damn time. Whatever's been going on with you and Manoso has to stop. If you want Joe, then he deserves to have _all_ of you. You can't have it both ways, Steph."

"I know." I felt the tears behind my eyes again. I didn't want to cry.

"You know I love you. You're a dear friend, and I'd never say or do anything to hurt you unless it was necessary. But you can take this to the bank—Joe's my brother at the precinct. Hurt him again, and our friendship is over."

Eddie, being the kind of guy he was, took my hand and squeezed it gently. I knew he was only telling me what I needed to hear for my own good _and_ for Joe's benefit. I couldn't be angry, because everything he'd said was true.

"I'm sorry. You're right; Joe never deserved any of this."

"Just think it over carefully before you go to see him."

"I don't have to think, Eddie. Everything you've said is true, and the only man I care about is Joe! I really do love him as much as he loves me. I swear! I was just confused and scared, but now that I've lost him, I know he's the one for me. I simply think it's too late."

"That doesn't sound like you, Steph. You go after your man. You don't think twice when it's a criminal trying to get away with murder or someone shooting at you. Why would you give up this easily when it comes to your own life? Joe _is_ your life, right?

"Right!" I agreed, trying to smile at his encouragement.

"Well what could be worth fighting for more than that?" He asked me simply.

"You think I should fight this separation?"

"_I_ think you should give him a knock-down, drag-out, ten-rounds-with-overtime bout if you really want him."

"I do. Oh God, I do! I miss him so much, Eddie. I love him so much. I swear I'd never let him go again! You really think he hasn't totally given up on me?"

Eddie shook his head. "He'd be back to work by now, drowning himself in _it_ rather than booze. I know Joe, and if he were ready to move on without you, he'd be doing just that. You simply need to show him what he means to you. In our line of work, if a man begins to feel insecure and unsure that's dangerous and possibly fatal."

"I would die if anything ever happened to him because of me."

"Then tell him. Show him. Do whatever it takes to make him feel like a man who is valued and loved. Cops need that assurance to get through the horrible stuff we see every day. If I didn't have my family—"

"I'll do everything I can to make that happen, Eddie. I promise."

"That's my girl!" He smiled at me fondly and gave me a big, Eddie-bear hug before he left.

I hoped what Eddie had said was true. Would Joe still have enough love for me to let me fight for him? I wanted so badly to give him back everything I'd taken from him. More than that, I wanted to give him everything he'd ever wanted.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

**Not my characters. No profit. **

**Carol, I know this one was a bear because it's so long!**

**Thanks so much for the incredible way you beta for me. Sharing our ideas and opinions is great fun, and you are the best.**

**This is really long. I thought about dividing it but to those of you who like long chapters. This is for you! **

**Steph POV**

My stomach was a jumble of nerves. I'd showered, shaved my legs, washed my hair twice and now needed to find a way to feel confident without applying a hundred layers of mascara. Whenever my hand touched the mascara tube, I felt Joe holding me tenderly and washing off the disguise I'd hidden behind. He'd forced me to look at myself—really look. He'd been so gentle, sweet and loving. How—after everything I'd done to him—had he been so patient and understanding with me? What man would give compliments and encouragement after having been so horribly wronged and totally betrayed? He'd given me so much to think about, and not a day had gone by that I hadn't done a little more soul-searching.

After hearing that Joe was having trouble facing his world without me, I knew it was my turn to help him. I'd do anything to take away the pain I'd inflicted upon him even though it was going to be heart wrenching to see him again. I knew I'd want to throw myself into his arms and never let him go, however, I also knew I couldn't disrespect his wish that we stay apart. For once I had to let my feelings go in deference to his. I had to be there for him, yes, but I also needed to keep his needs above my own. There _had_ to be a way to accomplish both at the same time.

Trying to decide what to wear, I tossed so much of my clothing on the bed my closet was almost empty. What in the heck did one wear to an ex-boyfriend's house to persuade him to go back to work?

Ex- boyfriend.

The idea stopped me in my tracks. Boyfriend had never been a good enough word to describe what Joe Morelli meant to me, and I'd hated using the word during our entire relationship when he'd meant so much more. I could never find the right word to describe him.

Husband would have been perfect. Husband would have made him mine forever. Husband would have encompassed everything he was to me—my partner, my friend, my ally, my protector, my bantering companion, my lover and my life.

Now I would never have the right to use the ideal word—the one that would finally have signified what he meant to me.

After riffling through about twenty outfit possibilities, I settled on the real me—jeans with an emerald green V-necked t-shirt that Joe had loved, due to its excellent cleavage-viewing potential. I had no false hope my attire would change anything between us, but I figured it couldn't hurt either.

I stopped at the grocery store on my way to his house, picking up all his most favorite deli items. Grabbing my big black bag and the two sacks of groceries from the car, I immediately saw that all the gossip had been true. There was a trail of mail spilling out of the box onto the small cement porch, and at least two weeks worth of newspapers had accumulated, now scattered all over the front lawn. Joe loved to read the sports section first thing every morning, so it wasn't a good sign to see them sitting there unopened and unread.

I knocked on the door, waiting a minute to no answer. Repeating this procedure three more times to no avail, I leveraged the groceries to the floor of the porch and searched for my key. A ping of pain zinged through my heart when the key no longer fit the lock. I was the only reason he'd had for changing the lock.

Maybe this was a mistake. What if he'd hate me coming anywhere near him. I wondered if I should just turn around and go home, but I couldn't. Something inside me had to see him—to see for myself if he was okay. If Joe didn't want to see me, well too damn bad!

I pounded harder on the door and raised my voice to a shrewish scream. The neighborhood would be buzzing about it in a matter of minutes, but I didn't care. I pounded harder and yelled louder.

Finally after what seemed like ages, the door opened a tiny crack. "Go away!" Joe's husky, boozy-laden voice called out to me, but I couldn't see even see a trace of him.

"Joseph Anthony Morelli, let me in this instant!" I ordered firmly. He opened the door a little more. I could see his bloodshot eyes and his bristly, scraggly beard.

He was looking at me as if he was seeing an apparition. "Well there you are again! I knew after finishing that last bottle, I'd see you!" His eyes rolled back in his head. "You look almost real this time!"

"I am real, Joe. Now let me in." I tried to pull open the screen door but the damn thing was locked too.

"Oh nooooo…you're not!" I heard his garbled voice and saw his body weave back and forth uncontrollably. I also saw the source of his wayward behavior. He held an almost-full whiskey bottle tightly in his hand. Bob ran toward the screen howling woefully when he saw me still stuck on the wrong side of the door.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. I'd never seen Joe in such disarray.

"I want to get back to my bottle. You go away now, Step-a- knee!" he ordered me as he attempted to close the door. Bob jumped up, as if on cue, hitting at the screen with his paws and preventing Morelli from closing the door. He cried plaintively, staring eagerly up at me while on his hind legs.

"Down, boy!" Morelli ordered the mangy mutt. His eyes rolled a little further into his head as he looked through the screen. "She's not reallllllllllly here. We're just magining her again."

I was more determined than ever to get into the house. Joe definitely needed me. Big Dog, Carl and Eddie had been right to be concerned. I doubted he had left the back door open since he seemed to have created a fortress for himself, but I had to try it. My stomach somersaulted with burgeoning worry about Joe.

Stepping down off the porch, I headed to the backyard. I could hear Morelli still talking to Bob. "See, Bub, I told you she's not zeally here." Bob answered back, barking repeatedly that I was indeed there.

I tried the back door, and sure enough it was locked. There was only one window in the house that was impossible to lock, and it was on the second floor in the guest bedroom. I'd always been a natural climber, having had a lot of practice sneaking in and out of my parent's house when I'd been grounded.

Thanking God for my sneaky skills, I shimmied up the tree outside the blessed window—grateful I'd chosen the jeans. I pushed up hard on the pane, and _presto_ I was in the house. I'd already made my way down the stairs to the living room by the time Joe had the front door closed and locked.

I saw him look back at the door, then at the stairs and then he closed and opened his eyes doing one last double take.

"Ah Shit!" he mumbled.

Raising his beloved bottle to his lips, he managed to pour most of it down the front of his wrinkled t-shirt.

"Damn bottle, they don't make the damn mouth big enough!" he grumbled to himself. "Now slook what you did!" He looked at me, pointing the bottle in my direction and firmly placing the blame where it belonged.

I decided feeding him and making coffee would be my first priority. I quickly unlocked the front door and decided to keep the screen propped open by my body so Joe wouldn't be able to get the impulse to shut it on me. Rescuing both bags of groceries and my skip bag in one hand, I quickly made my way back inside, stepping carefully over a trail of debris. There was quite a mixture of take out boxes and leftover uneaten food, along with empty whiskey bottles strewn on the countertops and the floor. I took the groceries and set them on the kitchen counter. I then poured water into the coffee maker and added a filter filled with fresh coffee grounds.

Bob apparently had no doubt I was real because he bounded over to me, wagging his tail happily and lapping at me with his tongue. He finally relaxed on his laurels with a big doggie grin, and I knelt on the floor to pet him.

"What a good boy. I've missed you too. Yes, I have. You're such a good boy!" He answered me with more slobbery, licking affection.

I looked up to see Morelli shaking a finger admonishingly in Bob's direction.

"Bob, you are delusional. She's not here. She's not coming back. She's toast!" He laughed sardonically. "She's toast, and she's supposed to buy the bread—or am I? I can't remember."

He scratched his head, obviously perplexed. "Who needs the damn bread anyway? Funny, huh!" He weaved over to the couch and planted his inebriated body down with a loud plop.

I went about fixing him a turkey sandwich the way he liked it with mayo, mustard, cheese and just a dash of ketchup. I heard funny, humming noises coming from the living room, so I decided to investigate. Morelli had never been much of a singer, but he was giving it the old drunken try. I don't think I'd ever heard a more soulful rendition of "Mac Authur Park". Of course he was making up his own strange lyrics as he was singing, and apparently he only knew the chorus.

"_My heart is melting in the dark. All my cupcake's life is over now. Someone took my Cupcake, and I can't cry, but I feel like I might just wanna die. Cuz my heart is melting in the dark. All the green icing is sliding down. And I don't think that I can take it. Cuz it took too long to bake it, and I'll never have that recipe again…"_

He jumped at the sight of me as if he was surprised to have an audience. "Stupid song. What the hell does it even mean?" He slid down on the couch, trying to prop up his feet, but they hung over the end of couch by about a foot. He managed to hold his bottle of whiskey upright, but he looked extremely uncomfortable. Closing his eyes, he draped the bottle-free arm over his forehead.

I walked over closer to survey the damage. He was wearing the t-shirt I'd given him shortly after we'd started seeing each other. It was one of his favorites—totally threadbare now because he'd worn it so much. A pair of raggedy cut off jeans accompanied the shirt. As usual he needed a haircut only instead of being one month past due it was more like two.

He opened one eye, suspiciously gazing up at me like a drunken pirate. "Why don't you just disappear? That's what you do best!" he yelled out, still oblivious to the fact I was real.

"Joe, it's me, Steph. I _am_ really here."

"NO! No! No. She doesn't live here anymore. She never really did, you know! She was in and out like a thief in a burglary! She liked to wear masks like a little raccoon, and she liked to hang out with the guys in black. So now she's gone," he informed me, waving the bottle to show my "exited-stage-left" status.

"Do you miss her?" I asked, wondering if he would admit it.

"Nah—just every time I breathe."

"She misses you too." I felt tears threatening.

"She used to be my Cupcake. You know, you kind of look like her, except you're not really here, and there's like six of you—or maybe five." He squinted and showed me three then four fingers, as if he couldn't decide which. "Well way more than I usually see. Usually I just see the one," Morelli informed me, nodding his head with a confused laugh.

"That's good." One of my eyes betrayed me, and a single tear escaped.

"Yeah, believe me, ONE of her is enough! She used to be my Cupcake, you know. Cuz when we made love the first time, she had a cupcake on her breast—chocolate—my favorite. Do you know about my Cupcake?" he asked. His weary eyes, accompanied by his head tilted to the side, made him look like a sad, curious puppy.

"Yes, I know."

"Ohhhh, that's too bad. She's not my Cupcake anymore— did you know that? I can't even call her that anymore, I have to call her somthin' else."

I couldn't resist asking. "So what do you call her now?"

"My… Brussel Sprout!" he yelled emphatically.

Laughter was mixing with my tears. I'd never seen Joe this inebriated or adorably vulnerable. I wanted so badly to hold him in my arms and push the unruly curls back from his forehead. "Why a Brussel Sprout? That's a long way from a Cupcake." I questioned him lightly.

"You're damn right!" He agreed, nodding drunkenly. "I loved my Cupcake, but now she's a brussel sprout, cuz I HATE those!" His eyebrows rose, and then lowered sadly.

"You hate her?" I felt the lead shrapnel hitting my gut.

"YEAH! Of course I do. She's been a bery, bery naughty Cupcake! You know her?" he asked, totally pie-eyed.

"Yes, I do."

"Well then you know she's in love with a Stove…or a Superzero…Ranger! _Deranged_ is more like it! It's a stupid, stupid name, right?" he asked, and his little-boy-like innocence touched me. I watched as he took another long swig from the bottle.

"Yes, very stupid," I agreed. Reaching for the bottle, I gently tugged it out of his hands.

"BABE!" he drawled the word out with loathing. "That's what he calls her all the time. I think she likes it. But what is she to him—a storybook pig? What the hell does she see in that guy!"

I had to play keep-away with the bottle as Morelli tried repeatedly to filch it, getting increasingly aggravated when his efforts to swipe at air were in vain. Giving me one of his "knock-it-off" looks, he stood and staggered a bit. I turned and walked toward the kitchen, and he followed me—probably hoping I'd change my mind about the bottle.

"Hey, give that back! I'm not finished. You gotta finish the bottle otherwise people go thirsty in foreign countries. Don't you know that?" he asked inquisitively.

"This isn't going to quench your thirst." I responded, taking it to the sink and pouring the remainder down the drain.

"Nope," he agreed morosely. "She's the only one who can do that."

I turned from the sink to face him, hearing the wistful sadness. I hoped to God it was true. If he would give me a chance, I'd make everything right between us again.

He stumbled to the fridge and took out a beer. I promptly wrestled it from his intoxicated fingers and poured it down the sink as well.

"Hey, you're not nice! No wonder you look like Stephanie—my little Cake. Did you know you can't have your Cake and eat it too? I found that out. You're better off without cake." He shook his head sullenly.

"Really? Is that so."

"Yep, that's so," he agreed, nodding emphatically. He leaned his head tiredly against the kitchen wall as though it was the comforting breast of his mother.

"Joe, you need to sit down and have some coffee and something to eat."

"NOPE! I gave up food for Lent."

"Joe, it's not Lent."

"Okay, well I think food is highly over-rated. It keeps you from being drunk."

"Yeah," I nodded back, deciding it was high time to get some food and coffee into him. I put the finishing touches on his turkey sandwich.

"Here—sit down."

"I can't eat. I think I'm going to be sick." He wobbled toward the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him. I heard the click of the lock. _Shit!_

"Joe, are you okay?"

"Go away! Who are you anyway?"

"I'm your worst nightmare." I decided if I had to break the damn door down I would. He was used to strong, threatening women, so I'd try that first. "Come out and have something to eat, or I'll call your Mom and Grandma Bella. By the way you're acting, Bella will definitely put the eye on you!"

"Geesh!" He opened the door. "Get a grip—I'm coming. You sure are bossy!"

"You sure are drunk!" I swiped back at him.

"Damn tootin," he agreed. "And I plan to stay this way for a long, long, time."

"You're going to lose your job!"

"I hate it! I see dead people all the time." He cut an imaginary knife across his throat.

"I know."

I felt so bad for him. I'd seen his disillusioned cop face too many times. I'd watched him stumble out of bed in the middle of the night to face another grizzly crime scene. It broke my heart to see how exhausted he'd become from facing it all on a daily basis.

"It's hard to do that every single day, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Dead, dead people all the time," he echoed. "And I don't think I'm dead. Am I? Sometimes I'm not sure anymore."

"Don't worry, you're alive."

"It doesn't make any difference anymore. Dead or alive, I'm still dead inside." The disillusionment in his eyes hurt my heart.

"You're very much alive, Joe."

"If you say so, but I know I'm dead." He used his fingers as an imaginary gun and pretended to shoot himself.

"You have to eat." I handed him half the sandwich, and, in spite of his resolve not to eat anything, he quietly took a bite.

"I don't know if you're really here or not, but if you are, please stop it." He looked like he was about to cry.

"Stop what?"

"Making me love you when all I want to do is hate you." His face looked so forlorn.

"I don't want you to stop loving me," I confided in a low whisper.

"What do you want?" he asked me, looking deeply into my eyes. I could see a bit of sobriety was muddling through the drunken stupor.

"I want you to drink some coffee."

I held the cup to his lips, and he looked up at me like a lost little boy, obediently taking a few sips of the coffee. I wished I could tell him I really wanted him. I wanted to stop the pain I saw in his eyes—to stay there forever and make him smile again. He was my dream. He'd _always_ been my dream.

Joe took a few more nibbles of his sandwich, and I felt this swell of love for him. It was so indescribable and all-consuming it took my breath away for a few seconds.

"Can I have my bottle back now?" he asked, looking for it longingly.

"No, you don't really need that, Joe."

"You don't have a clue about what I need," he informed me scornfully.

"Maybe I know more than you think I do."

"Yeah—like what?" Joe's eyes challenged me to prove it.

"Like the fact that right now you need to go upstairs, get in the shower and clean yourself up. Then I'm going to tuck you into bed and wait until you wake up so we can talk."

"Ohhhhh. I hate talking." Joe's eyes glazed again as he stared at my face. "Damn it!"

"What?"

"There's only one of you now, and I'm thinking you'll disappear just like you always do."

"I'm not going anywhere," I promised, gently helping him off the chair.

"That would be a first, wouldn't it?" Joe said sadly as I lead him up the stairs.

**Joe's POV**

My eyes flickered in the dim, lamp-lit room. It felt like some evil construction crew was hammering away in my head. Wriggling around in the bed, I tried to remember how I got there. I could see through the curtains it was dark outside. I vaguely remembered someone hauling me into the shower. Someone had washed my body, helped me into fresh clothing and guided me into bed. It hadn't been me. There was no way I could have done it by myself. _Why couldn't I recall what had happened?_ Suddenly, Stephanie popped into my head, but I knew it was just wishful thinking.

I'd just pushed myself up into a sitting position on the bed when the door opened and the overhead light flicked on. I looked up to see my daily mirage arrive carrying a tray. _She was so damn beautiful!_ I wished I could stop seeing her. It only made being without her that much harder. I watched as she moved toward the bed, setting the tray down on the dresser.

"You're awake."

"Am I?" I answered automatically. I knew the vision never lasted.

"You've been asleep for a long time." She planted herself on the edge of my bed. I actually felt the mattress reverberate as she sat down. "Are you hungry?"

"I have a headache."

"I'd be shocked if you didn't. You've really been tying one on." I felt her hand on my arm, and there was no more denying it. This was not my imagination at all.

"What are you doing here?" I asked in a raspy whisper. She was real, and I was in deep shit.

She stood to get the tray of food. There was soup, a sandwich and McDonald's fries and a Coke. Reaching out to take the cup, I felt the icy condensation. The feel of the cold, waxy cup made it real. This was Steph's sure-fire method for getting past a hangover. I'd brought it to her on numerous occasions, rescuing her from morning-after headaches. I remembered all the grateful kisses I'd received once she'd come back to the land of the living.

"Everyone's very worried about you, Joe."

"Yeah? Well EVERYONE should just mind their own goddamned business."

"What are you doing?"

I heard her voice imploring me to see I was on a path to self-destruction. A part of me acknowledged it, but mostly I didn't care.

"What I do or _don't_ do isn't your business anymore. What the hell are doing here, Stephanie? Did you come to rub salt in the wound? I told you it's over. You have no reason to be here. I need to get on with MY life!"

"Exactly! You need to get on with your life—NOT wallow in self-pity and drink yourself into a stupor! What are you thinking? I'm not worth this! You're going to lose everything. I can't let this happen to you, Joe—not after all the hard work you've put in. You're better than this!"

She was nearly in tears. I could always tell when those damn things were imminent, and I hated to see her cry.

"Look, I'm entitled to take a fucking break without everyone—including you—going ballistic." I pushed the tray off my lap and over to the far side of the bed—_her side_.

"That's what you call this—a break? I call it a breakdown!"

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm doing just fine without you!"

I'd always been a horrible liar, and we both knew I was doing anything but fine. I hopped out of the bed, noticing for the first time I had no shirt on.

The sight of me without a shirt drew a deep, unmistakably turned-on sigh out of Stephanie. I'd seen that look in her eyes before, and I knew what always happened to me when I saw it. I couldn't afford to have it happen any longer and quickly grabbed a t-shirt out of my dresser.

I couldn't believe she was really there. The t-shirt apparently did nothing to dissuade her thoughts because she continued to look at me as though she wanted to rip the shirt right back off my body. I only had to make a single move, and she'd be back in my arms. It'd be so easy to give into the mushrooming temptation and forget the last two weeks had ever happened. They'd been the two most intolerably, lonely weeks of my life, and I was overcome with the need for her.

"Joe," she uttered my name so softly it felt like a caress.

The electricity in the room was palpable—like a Mexican standoff. Who would move first? I was afraid to move in fear of total capitulation, and I was afraid to move in fear of once again becoming her second choice—the one she settled for in between her torrid trysts with Ranger. No way in hell was I going back to that!

"You should leave," I said, trying hard to control the inner voice whispering _take her, be with her, ask her to stay with you, live with you marry you, never leave you again._

"I need to get some things straight with you," she informed me. Her raised eyebrows were giving me a womanly, almost _wifely_ look, that screamed, "don't cross me".

"Like what?" I asked, leaning against the bedroom wall with my arms folded tightly in front of my chest.

"Like, you need to get a grip! You're jeopardizing everything you have to go on this drunken binge. What for—me? You know I'm not worth this! You'll soon find someone else who fits into your future perfectly. There are _hundreds_ of women who will be leaping for joy at the news Joe Morelli is back on the market. You'd probably better forget locks on your doors—you'll need iron bars to keep them away."

I felt incredible anger quickening within me. How dare she belittle what we had so easily?

"Shut UP!" I warned.

"Why? You know it's true! You won't have any trouble finding a replacement."

For the first time, I saw her pain. Tears were streaming down her face.

"I'm not looking for one." My hands ached to touch her. I hated seeing her cry like this.

"Why not? You made your choice. Why pine over it? Be a man about it and move the hell on!"

"Like you are with Ranger?" I accused scathingly.

Steph shook her head at me sadly. "It doesn't matter what I say to you. You'll never believe it anyway."

"Try me."

"What Ranger and I had—or rather _didn't _have—is over. I have no intention of moving on with him."

"Yeah right, until your next big emergency comes along. Who you going to call then?"

"Ghostbusters!" she snapped in frustration.

"I wish."

"I have Tank to call. I told Ranger to stay the hell away from me for the foreseeable future. I can't see him right now."

"Like that's going to last," I answered skeptically.

"What do you want me to say, Joe? You obviously don't have any faith in me, and I know you can't trust me," she responded with a belligerent glint in her eyes.

"There's nothing left _to_ say, Steph. I'm worn out, okay? It's a lot to deal with all at once."

"Is it really the job too? Are you burned out from it?"

"Yeah. So you see it's not entirely about you. I'm at a crossroads. I'm thinking of leaving—maybe moving away."

Her shocked expression said it all. I knew it would be shattering to actually leave Trenton and try to find a new life, but the thought of running into her all the time was unbearable.

"Where?" Her breathy question pierced my heart.

"I don't know, but it might be best."

"You'd be leaving your whole family."

"Well _there's_ a silver lining if ever there was one." I laughed mirthlessly.

"They'd miss you!" She choked back a sob. "_I'd_ miss you. I already _do_ miss you!"

"I miss you too," I admitted. Why hold anything back? It was good to stop putting up defenses and just speak the truth for a change.

"Please don't leave—don't go away!" Steph tried vainly to swallow back tears. "It feels like you're going into the Navy all over again."

"You didn't want me to go into the Navy?" I asked her, totally surprised.

"No! It was awful without you around. I hated it!" Stephanie's voice sounded almost like the teenager she'd been as she said the words.

"I didn't even think you cared. I mean I obviously knew you were angry later on when you ran me over with the Buick, but—"

"I've loved you for so long, Joe Morelli, I don't even know what it would be like _not_ to love you."

"Even then?" I asked, realizing she actually _did _have feelings for me too.

"Forever," she admitted softly.

Her eyes begged me to see the truth.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It's not exactly like I was immune to you either."

"Don't you see, Joe? We were meant to be. As far back as I can remember you've been on my radar. If you leave now, I won't ever be the same. Even if I can't have you, you just have to _be_ here. My world without Joe Morelli is unthinkable—you _can't_ go."

"_Why_ do you even care? A lot has happened between us, and even when I thought you loved me—"

"I _do_ love you!_"_

Her voice was aggravated. I didn't know what to believe anymore. How could I ever believe another word she said?

"I don't know what to believe," I admitted. "I don't know if I can accept you really loved me at all."

She had that defiant look in her eyes—the one that reminded me of a dog with a bone—filled with tenacity.

"Fine. You're never going to believe anything I say now, but what about when I was nine—and ten—and eleven— and twelve—and all the way up to my twenties. Will you believe that?"

"What are you talking about?" I asked, completely clueless.

She quickly walked to the space on the floor beside the bedroom door and bent down to pick up her skip bag. I watched as she took something out of it and promptly walked back in my direction. Taking a stance in front of me, her hands shook as they held some kind of book. She extended it to me with both palms. What in the heck was she up to now?

"This will prove to you my love has _never_ been a lie."

She looked deeply into my eyes, and, in that moment, I saw her love for me clearly. She had no defenses up. It was obvious how much giving me this book meant to her, so I took it.

Looking down at the pink flowered cloth journal, I couldn't help smiling a little when I saw the title of it. It was done in bits of colored lace trim and tiny, multi-colored stones that formed the words I spoke aloud.

"Morelli, Moments?" my eyes were questioning, I was totally dumbfounded.

Stephanie blushed a little, and bit her lip. I could see she was nervous about exposing this part of herself to me in a way she had never done before.

"I bet you never knew you had a stalker," she gave a nervous laugh.

"I did?" Even as I spoke the words, my heart softened slightly.

"I've kept this journal since I was about nine and half years old. I probably would have started it sooner, but I didn't know how to spell very well before then." She nodded her permission shyly. "Go ahead—open it."

Opening the cover, the first thing I saw was a newspaper picture of me when I was eleven, wearing a baseball uniform and cap. I read the childish scrawl aloud,

"_Dear Journal,_

_Joe Morelli is the cutest guy I've ever seen. He looks so adorable in his baseball cap. I wonder what girl he likes now. I wish I were the same age as him, so I could play on his team. I bet I'd pitch better than he does!"_

"Whoa, you were a dreamer. Pitching better than me? I don't think so, Cupcake." I smiled fondly, remembering what a little spitfire she'd always been. I knew she was slightly embarrassed as I took in her sheepish grin and wrinkled nose. She was awaiting my reaction to this latest "Stephanie revelation".

"I never realized I was being watched."

"Oh yeah, you were—_very_ closely," she assured me.

"That's sweet." I couldn't keep the nostalgic feelings at bay.

"You're really going to like the next one," Stephanie teased, her eyes indicating it was time to turn the page.

Following her instruction, I did so and immediately remembered the exact day the photo was taken. I'd been about to eat lunch at school when I'd caught Mary Lou and Steph out of the corner of my eye—first whispering—then bursting into a fit of giggles. I'd wondered what could possibly be so funny and had kept an eye on them as they hid behind a tree across from the lunch tables outside. The picture was of me taking the first bite of my sandwich.

"_Joe likes food. I do too. I wonder if he likes cake as much as I do? I wish I could talk to him sometime, but I bet he wouldn't even want to talk to someone younger than him. Darn, I wish I were his age! Then he'd have to talk to me. Oh! Now_ _that_ _mean Teri Grizzoli went over and sat next to him at lunch. She's a witch! I hope she gets a big, green wart on her nose, so Joe won't even think she's pretty!"_

My laughter filled the room. Oh God, it felt so good to laugh again. I smiled at Steph knowing that she had given me something to treasure.

"I'm loaning it to you for awhile, but I want it back," she said quietly. "It's part of who I've _always_ been. I just don't want you to ever doubt your place in my heart, Joe. No matter what happens, you'll always have it."

I blinked twice and swallowed hard. I'd never expected Stephanie had given me more than a passing glance over those years. I've never known what was truly in her heart—not even then.

"Joe, I really don't want you to leave."

Her eyes were dewy, and I knew she was trying not to cry again. "Promise me you won't leave. I know everything is bad now, and the job is a killer—" She flushed with embarrassment. "Excuse the pun. But you're the best of the best. No one is better suited to being a cop and keeping our community safe than you. If you don't do it, then who will? You have a right to be exhausted, and God knows you're in a lot of turmoil over us, but _please_ don't leave!"

I'd never been able to refuse her anything. Suddenly it hit me that while seeing her from time to time would be painful, _not_ ever seeing her again would be excruciating.

"I'll be around, I promise."

"Thank you!" she breathed gratefully.

My heart lurched as I heard her deep sigh of relief. Holding up the journal, I shook my head. "You sure don't make it easy on a guy!"

"I know. I'm a handful." Her beautiful grin widened. "You know you love me anyway!"

"You're not going to let _this_ go, are you?" I complained, feeling amusement mixed with pain.

"I'm not going to let _you_ go so easily either!" she retorted saucily, determination and something else beseeching me with her eyes. Somehow I knew this wasn't the end.

"You're not going to run me over with a car again, are you?" I couldn't resist joking.

"Would it keep you with me?" she asked hopefully, and then added with her eyes dancing, "No, I won't run over you again—_even_ if you do call me Brussel Sprout."

"What?" I was totally stymied.

She shook her head, refusing to spill the beans. "Don't worry, Morelli. I'll tell you _all_ about it someday." She raised her eyebrows at me teasingly.

"I hope so, Cupcake."

"If you'd change your mind about us, I'd tell you everything right now."

She drove a damn hard bargain. I wanted to know, but something inside me couldn't completely let go of the doubts I was still harboring about us.

I relented a bit. "You need to let me go—at least for now."

"Why won't you just give me one more chance?"

"Because I need this time to see where we are, or even _if_ we are after I get my bearings again. Cupcake, you're a part of me and have been for a long time. Letting you go is a bitch!"

"Then don't!" she begged.

"It would be so easy to take you up on that, but I'd be lying to myself _and_ you if I did. I can't trust you won't go back to _him. _Ranger will always be in your life. He's your mentor, and he's important to you. But I won't take a back seat to that any longer. I refuse to be second string in this relationship, because there've been three people in our bed for way too long. I don't want him anywhere near us, and you'll never accept that ultimatum."

"I will if you'd just give me the chance. We could compromise. Why can't we try to figure out some way?"

"There is NO way, okay! I've turned the other cheek so many times, I've lost face."

"I could help you. I could be here for you through all the job stuff. I'd be here every single day—I promise."

"You don't know how tempting that is to me, but the answer is no."

"I want you back, Joe."

I knew this was costing her, and I didn't want to hurt her.

"I wish I could take you back, Steph. I really wish I could tell you everything that's happened is forgotten. But I can't, and I won't. You're right about me. I need to get my life back on track, and _I_ need to figure out how to do it." My eyes entreated her to understand. "And you need to let me."

"Okay." Stephanie's head bowed briefly in resignation, but then she looked me in the eye. "As long as there's no more crazy behavior. You need to stay sober and at least go back to work. I refuse to stay away if I know you're in trouble."

"Deal." I smiled that we could agree on that much. I needed to get my head on straight and work was the best way to do it.

I held out my hand to shake hers but surprised both of us by drawing her into my arms instead. The kiss was sweet and hot, hard yet hopeful. I felt her hands run up and down my chest longingly.

My mind pictured my fingers gently removing her clothing and showing her she was and always would be the only love of my life. I knew she'd let me take her right then and there, but I couldn't do it under false pretenses. No matter how much I wanted her, neither of us was ready.

She sensed my hesitation, and our lips parted. Taking a step back, her hand still clung to my t-shirt as she whispered, "I love you so much, Joe. I _always_ will."

I was rendered speechless.

"I cleaned a little downstairs, and I packed up all my things."

Stephanie's voice sounded lost and childlike. It broke my heart. I didn't want her to go. God, I wished I could give her what she wanted—never let her go, hold her, make love to her, marry her and live happily ever after.

"Thanks for being here. It means a lot. And thanks for that." I nodded toward the journal resting on the table. "I'll get it back to you someday, Cupcake."

"Sure." Steph's eyes were cloudy with unshed tears. She walked up to me and kissed me softly on the cheek. "Take care."

"You too." I watched her pick up her bag and walk toward the door. Turning around, she took one last look at me and then was gone. The front door opened and closed for the last time.

**Joe's POV**

I hated the silence and emptiness that enveloped me the moment Stephanie left. I was sorely tempted to head downstairs and start drinking again, but I couldn't do it. I'd promised her I would get my life in order.

While I couldn't be sure I'd be successful, I wanted her by my side, although it would be a mistake at this point. Too much had happened, and I was dealing with too much anger to be around her every day. The last thing I wanted was to hurt her. In spite of everything, I'd never willfully hurt her.

I looked down at the table where the journal she gave me was waiting. By the look that had been in Stephanie's eyes, I knew it was something she cherished. I couldn't believe she'd been my secret admirer all this time, sensing how important it was to her that I believed her words. I picked it up, and then immediately put it back down.

It became a war within myself—read it or drink. Forget her or love her. Loving her was like breathing, and I had to keep breathing. And drinking wasn't going to help anything. I needed to get my act together before I ruined my entire life. So there really wasn't any other decision. I picked up the journal again and sat down in the navy recliner by the bed. Opening it to the third page, I started reading right where I'd left off.

_Joe was at McDonald's today. I saw him sitting with his brothers. His eyes melt my heart. Ever since he pulled me out of those rose bushes when I flew off the roof of our garage, I've loved those eyes. If my mom knew, she'd kill me. I'm not even supposed to think about any of the Morelli boys—especially Joe!_

I flipped the page again.

_Joe was helping his mom shop today. My heart flips whenever I see him. He waved at me. I made sure my mom wasn't looking and waved back._

I couldn't help but remember Stephanie as a sweet little girl with pigtails and big, blue eyes—eyes I could still get lost in. I wondered if it was really possible to fall in love at eight years old. If this book was anything to go by, maybe it could even happen at age six.

_I saw him today. He didn't see me. I watched him for a really long time. I wish I'd had a camera to take his picture. He was just kicking rocks, but he looked so sad. I wonder what happened to make him look like that. I heard his dad takes the boys to the garage and whips them with a belt when they're bad. I hope Joe didn't get hit. He's so much nicer than his brothers._

My mind drifted back to those days in my dad's garage. I hadn't allowed those thoughts in for a long time. It felt comforting somehow to know my sweet Stephanie had witnessed my pain. It wrenched the heart of that hurt little boy still lingering somewhere inside of me. I felt my eyes fill when I thought of Stephanie sensing it when she was only nine years old. Somehow it made the little boy inside of me feel a little less alone.

_I wish I was high school so I could see Joe. It's been an awful long time since I had a Morelli Moment. Sometimes I imagine what it would be like to talk to him. I have this whole conversation between us in my head, and I wonder if Joe and I hadn't gone to the garage if we would have been friends this whole time. I don't know why, but I feel like I could talk to him for hours. I think we'd be best friends forever._

I smiled, because I was as sure as she was we would have been great friends. And I was equally as sure the friendship would have turned into deeply held passionate love. Once again I regretted listening to my brothers' threats and dares. At least Steph and I had finally talked about it, and I'd gotten to tell her the whole truth. Thank God I'd had that last night with her. I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Wondering how many years this journal encompassed, I knew it didn't matter. Now that I'd started it, I couldn't put it down.

_I heard Joe is taking Teri Grizzoli to the freshman winter dance. What the heck does he see in her? She's the meanest bitch I've ever known, and if Joe Morelli wants to take her to the dance, he can go to hell!_

I snorted—eyebrows raised in surprise. Potty-mouth Stephanie started at an early age.

_Yes! Nancy Bowman spilled her red punch all over Teri Grizzoli's white dress. Thanks to Nancy—there is a God! Okay, now I'm going to have to go to confession. Damn! Oh great, now I'll have to confess I swore too. I hope Joe had a horrible time at the dance. He needs to get a brain!_

I chuckled out loud. "Don't worry, Cupcake, I got a brain."

My eyes began to burn as I read the next page.

_Joe's father died. Oh my God, I can't imagine how sad he must be. If I lost my dad, I'd cry forever! I hope he's going to be okay. I know his dad wasn't very nice to the boys, and he was mean to Mrs. Morelli. Grandma Mazur says he cheated on her all the time. But losing a Dad has to be so hard—maybe even harder when you aren't close to him. I wish I could go up to Joe and give him a hug. Valerie said he hasn't been in school the last few days. I hope I can go to the funeral, so I can at least see if he's okay. I feel sick for him—like I want to throw up. I can't seem to stop thinking about Joe today. I hope he knows he's loved._

My eyes blurred, remembering the feeling of relief when my father died. I didn't shed a single, goddamned tear. I was taught never to cry by my dear father, so I sure as hell wasn't about to start when he died. For some inexplicable reason, the tears now fell hot and fast down my cheeks. I was mourning for the father I never had. I wished Stephanie were here, so I could lay my head on her chest and feel love. I really needed to feel love right then.

_I went to the funeral. Everybody and their brother were there. I didn't want to see the open casket. Joe was present looking pale and stoic. I didn't see him cry, but my heart cried for him. His life is never going to be the same. I hope he can leave the sadness behind and be happy again someday. I wish I could have hugged him. I was able to take his hand in mine for a few seconds in the receiving line. He looked right into my eyes, but he didn't seem to see me. I think he's still in shock._

Wiping my eyes, I turned the page.

_He came back to school. Val saw him in the hall. She said he was joking around and laughing with his friends. I guess that's good. But sometimes people do that when they're hurting. I do it all the time. God, I wish Joe and I were friends, so I could know what he's going through. I'd like to be there for him, but sometimes I don't think he knows I even exist._

My mind drifted back to the day of my father's funeral. I remembered people coming up to tell me they were sorry, but it was a blur. I wished now I'd been paying more attention. Steph was such a sweetheart to be so worried about me.

_I saw Joe and his family at Point Pleasant. Oh my God, he's cute! He had his shirt off. Mary Lou and I giggled the whole time because he forgot to put sunscreen on and was turning red as a lobster. I wanted to go up to him and warn him, but my mother would've killed me if I went anywhere near him. I wish mothers weren't so darn over-protective. What could he do to me with both our families all over the beach? Oh—and afterward he went swimming. His hair was all wet and curly and so damn sexy. His chest was so muscular. He should be a movie star. I wonder if he'd give me his autograph._

"Anywhere you want it, Cupcake." I smiled, turning to the next page.

_I'm finally in High School! Damn, I wish I had at least ONE class with Joe, but it isn't likely since he's two years ahead of me. Sigh—Why can't I just be older already! I heard he and Teri broke up, and now he's dating that redheaded cheerleader with the freckles all over her face—Maggie. I prefer Maggot! Geesh! What does he see in her?_

I had to hand it to my girl, she'd been right about every female I'd ever dated. No one else could ever hold a candle to my Stephanie.

_I'm going to a dance I don't even want to attend. Gordon Stemple asked me. Yuck! I wish I were going with Joe, but Mary Lou was dying for me to make it a double date with her and Lenny, so I said yes. I wish I could get out of it. I wonder what Joe's favorite color is? I think he'd like blue. I'm going to look for a really pretty blue dress. It's going to suck if he's at the dance with Maggot. I heard he might be breaking up with her to date Teri again. If that's true, then Joe Morelli can go to hell. He's scum! Okay, he's not scum, but he sure has terrible taste in girls!_

I shook my head slightly, amused by her one-tracked train of thought.

_I hate what they did to my hair. I want to tear out all the pins, wash it and wear it wet. What the hell! I should have done it myself. I'm going to put three layers of mascara on to make up for it. If my eyes are beautiful, maybe no one will notice this hair from hell!_

_My dress is perfect. It's blue satin on top and tulle on the bottom with little rhinestones sprinkled all over the tulle. It matches my eyes perfectly. I bet if Joe saw me in it he'd smile—well maybe not once he got a look at my hair. I bet then he'd run away screaming._

_I spent way too much money on my dress to have it wasted on Goofy Stemple. What a nightmare of a guy. He hasn't left me alone all week. He's everywhere I turn. Blech! Is it not enough I'm going to the dance with him? Do I have to be nice to him before we even go? I hate dating. It's way too aggravating. I think I'd really like it if I was going out with Joe. I imagine what it'd be like to be in his arms all the time. I think I'd practically faint if he was dancing with me. I wonder if I could ask him to dance with me just once? No, I'd never have the nerve, but I sure wish he'd ask me._

_The dance was worst than I expected. I got to watch Joe play tonsil hockey with Teri, and I got the date from hell to boot. I had to pretend it was Joe I was dancing with to get through one damn song. I never want to date again. Okay, I would if you-know-who asked me. All men are scum! Well, except Daddy._

I took a deep breath and shook my head to clear the cobwebs. I wished Stephanie were with me. If she was, I wouldn't be able to resist her knowing how absolutely adorable she was in those days when I'd been so clueless about her devotion to me.

I'd always kept an eye on her too. I couldn't help it, especially when she came into high school. I'd seen her in that dress and she'd been breathtaking. Okay, the hair was over the top, but the dress was perfect, and it _had been_ my favorite color. How did she know?

I watched her at the dance that night and remembered thinking if I saw the guy she was with touch her inappropriately one more time I'd deck him. It turned out I didn't have to worry because the next time it happened Stephanie gave her now legendary knee to the groin. The poor guy hadn't even known what hit him. If I'd known about her feelings for me, there was no doubt I'd have asked her for that dance.

There were many similar entries of her observing me from afar after attending sporting events; talking about how many points I'd scored. She also wrote about sightings at Uncle Mo's ice cream shop. Every moment she'd ever laid eyes on me was totally recorded, and every single one of them brought back those crazy school days. She wrote consistently, and it was all sweet, funny and sad. Yet lying underneath was a thread of love and anger at my stupidity for not seeing what I was missing in front of my eyes.

The next entry really caught my attention. It was dated a month prior to me leaving for the Navy.

_Joe Morelli has waved and smiled at me twice in the last two weeks! I thought I imagined it at first, but he did it a second time! TWICE! Oh my God, he does know I'm alive. He's going to graduate soon, and then he'll probably be going to college. I hope he stays here. I can't imagine never running into him. I'm getting older, and he finally noticed me. Once I become a senior, I bet he'd like me. I'd be closer to his age, and lots of senior girls date college guys—right? God, I hope he waves at me again tomorrow. I wish I could tell him how I feel. I bet he doesn't have a clue._

The date on the next page was two weeks later, and my heart jumped. The page was wrinkled and shriveled as though it had gotten wet. The writing was erratic and slightly blurred, but I could still read it fairly well.

_OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD! What have I done! I was a virgin! But it was Joe! He came into the bakery right when it was closing. I swear my heart stopped. He was drop dead gorgeous. He's a senior! And he's leaving Trenton to go into the Navy! I almost cried when he told me. My life won't be the same now—not ever._

_I couldn't have stopped it if I'd wanted to, and I hadn't! He helped me put away all the cakes and donuts and—sure enough—klutzy me managed to get a cupcake to take a dive down my cleavage. We laughed, and I blushed red to the roots of my hair. And then it happened. Oh God, why did I let it happen? I was going to wait until I got married! But it was Joe. It was Joe! And he's leaving. I might not ever see him again. What if something horrible happens to him? I won't be able to breathe._

_Maybe he'll call me—maybe he won't. I've heard he has all kinds of girls at his feet. Am I just one more now? The way he looked at me—the way we kissed. My mother would kill me if she knew, not to mention my dad. No one can ever know!_

_Oh my God, what if I'm pregnant! He's leaving, and I could be having his baby. What in the hell was I thinking? I just ruined my life! But it was Joe. When he kissed me, I felt like I'd been waiting forever for that kiss. I kissed him back and I didn't even know what to do. It just came naturally. I hope he didn't think I was a horrible kisser. I wonder if he thinks I'm a slut because I practically attacked him? I couldn't stop myself! His arms felt so amazing around me—and his lips! They weren't Lizard-like at all. They were so hot and demanding and sensual. I wish I could kiss him every day of my life. Everything I ever imagined sex would feel like didn't even come close. It was more than I ever could have imagined_

_I felt him inside of me, and it hurt for bit, but after—OH. MY. GOD! It felt like it was meant to be. I never knew my body could feel that good. He knew exactly what to do. He tried not to hurt me. He looked into my eyes and asked if I was okay, and when I nodded, he thrust himself into me, and fireworks exploded in my body and my heart. I never wanted it to stop. Joseph Anthony Morelli and I became one today._

_I can't stop thinking about him. I wonder if he's going to call me tomorrow. Will I see him before he leaves? Will he come back to me? Was he taken by me __as__I was by him? He called me the sweetest cupcake ever. He wouldn't have said that if he didn't mean it, right? I don't know what I'm going to do if he doesn't call me. He has to call me! We were meant to be; I know it in my heart. He's the one who pulled me out of the rose bushes. He's the boy I've always loved. I hate him for leaving me like this. My world will be over if he doesn't come back._

I swiped at my eyes repeatedly. Reading Stephanie's frantically written repercussions following our stolen moments brought home the fact I'd left her in turmoil. I dashed all her hopes of hearing from me. I never wrote, called or considered what I'd done to her. I knew she was innocent and naïve, and I'd been beyond insensitive to do that to her. I'd felt guilty afterward, but I didn't know what could be done to fix it. I was leaving for the Navy. I couldn't carry on a long distance relationship with a junior in high school. It wouldn't have been fair to either of us.

The thought of her came intermittently to me while I was away. I'd see a girl who reminded me of her—someone with the same shade of her eyes, or I'd walk down a street and see the same brown curls. But they weren't her curls or her eyes.

She haunted me—always in the back of my head lurking somewhere. I'd been wild and loose with plenty of flings along the way, but I'd never forgotten the sweetness of Stephanie—of how she'd made me feel. I'd always treasured the fact I was her first lover. She'd given me something precious, and, as much as I had tried to fool myself, it had meant something. It absolutely had. I was her first love, and I knew in my heart and soul I wanted to be her last as well.

As I read on I could see how much pain I'd caused her, and how much anger she'd experienced.

_He hasn't called. It's almost graduation, and I haven't seen him or heard a word. Damn him! I hate him! Scum, Morelli—you're pure scum! The scum of the earth! I hope you come home someday, so I can tell you what a jerk you really are. If I don't see you before you leave, then I don't know when I'll see you again. Scum!_

I grimaced at that last entry, feeling like the scum she'd thought I was. I'd never meant to hurt her, but I was eighteen years old—selfish and hormonal and really ignorant.

_He's gone. I saw him get his diploma and willed him to look at me, but he didn't. I think I would have shown him a nice Italian hand gesture if he had. He's gone, and_ _I may never see him again._ _I hope he's going to be okay, because if I never see him again…well that just can't happen_.

I exhaled loudly, trying to relieve the tension in my body, but then my breath caught as I read the next entry.

_Thank God, I got my period! I'm not pregnant, and I can breathe again! Five days late—I've never been so scared in my entire life. I can't even picture the look on my parent's faces if I'd been pregnant. Oh God! And Valerie would have moved up another hundred steps on the favorite daughter ladder. I don't think Joe would have cared at all. So it's over, unless maybe he writes or calls._

Sighing deeply, I couldn't help but wonder now if things would have turned out differently had she been pregnant. There was no doubt in my mind I would have taken care of her and stood by her and our child. After the childhood I'd had, I'd never have been able to let my child go—to allow my own flesh and blood to be ignored. And I would have been a great father. So even though she may not have trusted me, had I known she needed me, I would have come back. Of course she had no way of knowing that, but someday I'd tell her. She deserved to know. That young, innocent teenager still inside her needed to know I would have made everything right.

The next several entries were all the same.

_No letters. No postcards. No phone calls._

_I guess he forgot all about me. Well I'll be happy to return the favor. Asshole!_

I felt the pain she'd endured along with the anger. Poor Stephanie. God, I wished I'd called her even once. I could have spared her so much agony. But then I read the next entry and realized the agony was just beginning.

_Oh My God, he wrote all about me at Mario's Subs in the bathroom! He wrote a freaking poem about his conquest of me and left it for everyone to see forever! I want to kill him! I want to kick him in his happy place! I want to make him regret the day he was born! Everyone knows! My parents know! My dad's so mad he won't even look at me, and my Mom's done nothing but iron and shoot me dirty looks all day. They'd probably send me to a convent if they could. Too bad they didn't install a chastity belt; I bet they wished they had! I wish I could crawl into a ball and die. The guys at school are giving me these creepy looks, and five guys have asked me to go out. As if I don't know why—they think I'm a cheap slut! Thanks a lot, Joe! You'd better never show your face in Trenton again, because if you do, you'll regret__it! I hope you rot in hell! Am I ever going to live this down? Why would you do this to me?_

I swallowed hard over the lump in my throat. I couldn't even remember doing it very clearly. I'd been drunk and somehow had divulged my tryst with Stephanie to Mooch, Tony, and Paulie. The next thing I remembered was scrawling a badly rhyming poem on the walls of the bathroom at Mario's Subs. I vaguely remember getting in the back of a truck and going to a sports stadium too. God, what a selfish, inconsiderate bastard! I wondered how Stephanie could have ever given me a second glance.

Turning the page, I knew it was only going to get worse.

_I dreamt about him again. Why does he always get to me—even in my dreams? I wish I could erase him from my memory, but how can I stop these damn dreams! In them, we're together. That's how I always know they're dreams, because that's never going to happen again in reality. In this one, we were at Point Pleasant, holding hands and walking on the beach. We must have had fun at the arcade games because I was holding a stuffed dog with its tongue hanging out. I wonder if I won it or if he won it for me? I hate how dreams are never from beginning to end—just bits and pieces. We were walking and talking and laughing, and he looked at me as though I was the only other person alive. And now I feel like crying. I wish I could go back to sleep, so the dream would continue._ _It's __funny how you can hate and love someone at the same time._

God, how many times had I dreamed of Stephanie when I was in the Navy? I shook my head in wonder as I turned the page.

_Today I FINALLY got the SON OF A BITCH back. Joe Morelli's home from the Navy, and when I saw him, I gave him a proper welcome home present. I ran over that scum with the Buick! I don't know what happened to me. I just went crazy. I thought I was past everything that happened between us. After all, it's been two years. But seeing him walking down the street, knowing he never did ONE thing to keep in touch with me PLUS remembering that DAMN poem he wrote on the wall—WELL all I could see was red!_

_Afterward I got out of the car to ask him if he was okay. That's the least I could do after running someone over, right? He told me I broke his leg, and I said GOOD! Can you believe that jackass looked up my dress? Who in the hell does that! He has a broken leg, and he's staring up my dress. I didn't even call 911. I figured he could stay there till hell froze over! If I never see that no good scum again, it'll be TOO soon! I hate you, Joe Morelli. I hate you for being so damned stupid, and I hate you because you never loved me! And God help me, I've never gotten over you!_

There was only one more entry in the book. I wondered if it was more recent because Stephanie and I had never had any contact again following the incident with the Buick.

_Today I'm marrying Dickie Orr—not the man of my dreams. I guess it's the right thing to do. I mean a girl is supposed to get married and have a family and cook and clean and take care of everybody else, right? I'm not really sure about all these expectations, but I know I'll never be a conventional Burg housewife. I'm keeping my job, and I'm not going to give up on my Wonder Woman dream. I'll be Stephanie Plum Orr, but I won't conform to anyone's idea of who I should be. While I'll do my best to make him happy, I know this is what my parents want for me, and I suppose I want to be happy too._

_I guess since I'm getting married, I need to say goodbye to Joe and my Morelli Moments, and yet some part of me feels like crying. I wish it were Joe waiting at the altar for me today. If it were, I don't think I'd be so scared and feel like throwing up. I know I should hate him, and I haven't seen him in ages, but something about those moments I had with him—I want to feel like that again._

I took a deep, cleansing breath. My eyes were burning because that last entry had hit me like a freight train. Poor Steph—thinking she had to marry that bastard. My sweet girl settling for Dickie, and all this time I'd never known. I wished with all my heart it had been me too. Oh God, it would have made everything so much simpler. If only she'd never married Dickie. I could've helped heal her of all the things I'd done, and I could have spared her having to spend a single moment with that low-life, no-good, demoralizing snake.

By the time Ranger came into Steph's life, he would have been too late. I would've been married to her, and she would've been mine. And God help the man that tried to poach my wife!

It was fruitless to even give any of it a thought because it _was_ too late. Maybe if there'd been no Ranger when we got back together, we'd have had a fighting chance. But Manoso _had_ been there, and no matter how much I wished him away, he never disappeared.

He was always interfering. He did it blatantly and openly. The anger in me was constantly stirred, although it hadn't helped anything. I'd flown off the handle way too much and _blamed_ her instead of talking to her. If I'd done things differently, she'd have known how much she meant to me. I'd missed so many chances to reassure her because I'd been too afraid of losing her. At times I felt paralyzed—my heart in my throat, preventing me from saying the words.

I wished I could call and tell Steph what all these revelations in her journal had done for me. At some point, I would. I needed to talk to her about all of it. But the first thing I had to do was get my anger and pain under control.

There was no doubt left in my mind that Stephanie had loved me devotedly for a very long time. I had loved her as much and for just as long. Maybe this would become a new beginning for us. I had to believe the door wasn't locked. I had to have faith we were going to be together one day. And when it happened, it would last forever—no more good-byes or doubts or fears—only deep abiding love.

I turned the blank pages left in the journal and saw the back inside cover was filled with different versions of her first name combined with mine—scrawled sideways, diagonally and upside down.

_Stephanie Morelli, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Morelli, Mrs. Joseph Morelli._

Big hearts with our initials filled in whatever empty space was left on the cover. I felt my heart lighten a million pounds as I realized our dreams had been the same all along.

I finally felt at peace—as though I could face my job again. The world wasn't as over as I had perceived it was. I got out of the chair and pulled back the covers on my bed. Lying down, I held the journal to my chest near my heart.

"I love you too, Cupcake, and you're going to know how much someday soon." I whispered to the empty room.

I hoped my dreams would always be filled with Stephanie Morelli.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

**No profit. Not my characters. **

**Carol, you really helped me out on this one. I had some writer's block going on and your constructive help was so valuable. Thanks my friend. **

**Thanks to those of you who send feedback that I am not able to answer in person. I would really like to, because I appreciate your kind words so much!**

**Steph's POV**

My heart dropped with a thud the moment I closed Joe's front door. I felt like I was closing the door on my life. Tears flooded out of my eyes so forcefully they blurred my vision. Taking a moment to let my emotions run rampant, I sat down on the cement porch and buried my head in my hands. At least Joe had promised not to leave town. He'd given me a shard of hope by saying I had to let him go "for now." Had he done that so he wouldn't hurt me, or did he really mean it? Was this just another phase of us separating and getting back together, or was it really the end. I couldn't even breathe when I thought of that word. End. _NO!_ It couldn't be. I couldn't imagine us not being together in the end. That was the only ending I ever wanted.

Feeling chilled, I knew I had to get up and go somewhere, because I was no longer welcome here. Seeing Joe so drunk had really unnerved me. He'd always been so careful because of his family history—always knowing when to stop. And if he did get a little tipsy, he'd usually just sleep it off—certainly never getting the big hangover headaches like I did. He'd always controlled it in the past. _God!_ Thinking of him going through so much all at once made my heart twist. I hadn't realized work was getting to him that badly. My conscience immediately berated me. _Of course you didn't, Stephanie. You were too busy worrying about who you felt like fucking every day to even consider there might be anything more important going on in the world—like bothering to notice the man you really loved was in trouble and needed your support._

I didn't want to go home to my empty apartment but didn't know where else to go. There were so many memories everywhere I turned. The only place I truly wanted to be was back inside Joe's house. I wanted to be in his arms, teasing him about some silly thing he did or said and then cuddling up together to watch a game or a movie. That's where I wanted to be with all my heart. But he'd said "no". He wasn't ready.

I wondered if he ever would be.

I thought about going to my parents, remembering how much love I'd felt at last week's dinner. My legs were only a little wobbly as I stood. Picking up the never-ending traveling box of miscellaneous items I'd packed and unpacked too often over the years, I headed for my car.

Within minutes, I found myself parked in front of my folk's house. It felt right, so I got out and proceeded up the steps. Most of the lights were off, but it wasn't that late yet.

"Ma— Dad— Grandma?" I called out.

There was no answer. Noticing that the kitchen door leading out to the backyard was open, I proceeded through it to find some sign of my family.

My dad was sitting out on the patio in an old lawn chair. He held an ancient pair of binoculars that had been around our house ever since I could remember. The leather strap was worn and twisted, and the binoculars were scratched and banged up from repeated use.

"Hi, sweet one. What brings you here?" His nicknames for me all revolved around my love of desserts. So it could be Sugar, Sweet one, or Jelly Donut, shortened to Jelly D—my personal favorite.

I loved all the nicknames he used. He always knew how to make me feel special. I never felt he loved Val more than he loved me. I think he tried really hard to treat us equally. Growing up he'd always made sure to buy us the same amount of candy or ice cream. I remember one Christmas I overheard him telling my mom Val had one more gift than I did under the tree, so she needed to go out get me another one. Father's could be awfully nice to have around sometimes.

He loved junk food as much as I did, if not more, and it was a ritual for us to eat as much of it as possible while watching our favorite sporting events on TV. I'd left my parent's house on more than one occasion feeling sick from overloading on too much candy, chips and soda pop. Those were some of my favorite moments spent with him. He would relax—smile—and laugh as we shared opinions about players, game plays and replays. Together we'd cheer and boo them to the end.

He and I were pretty close—that is as close as my father allowed anyone to get to him. He was mostly a quiet man who had a bit of a temper on occasion. His was the Italian half of my heritage, so I'd had experience with the male Italian temperament my whole life. You'd think I'd have learned to handle it better by now, but when my Dad used to get angry, the force of his emotions would go straight to my stomach, immediately twisting it into a knot. Seeing Daddy unhappy always upset me greatly and shook my security.

I realized now that when Joe got upset my reaction was like going back to being a child. I didn't want anyone upset with me—ever. I used to run to my room and shut the door if Dad was yelling. He didn't do it very often, but when he did, it really scared the shit out of me. And now I could see when Joe did it I felt the same way. My security with him became shaken too. Funny how something experienced as a child could still be a catalyst for my behavior as an adult. Was that why every time Joe was unhappy with me I took off? What terrific timing to have put two and two together seeing as it might already be too late.

My Dad's voice brought me back to the moment. "Steph, you seem like you're a million miles away."

"No, not that far." _Only as far as Slater Street_. That's where I was—where my heart would always be.

"So what brings you here, Jelly D.?"

"Just passing by," I offered casually. "So where are Mom and Grandma?"

"They went over to Val's to babysit—something about Albert and Val needing a date night."

"Oh yeah—I remember having heard something about that last week."

"I've got the house all to myself for a few hours."

I could tell that made him pretty happy, and here I was spoiling it.

"I'm sorry, Dad. I'll go."

"NO! I didn't mean you, Jelly D. You're a treat! I always enjoy your company, Stephanie."

Somehow he could make me smile and feel good about myself when I was at my lowest. Funny, both he and Grandma Mazur had that way about them, yet they were so totally different. I was lucky to have the family I had. We may not be huggy—kissy—feely people, but we had one another's backs. As long as there was food and lots of dessert around, it wasn't hard to keep us happy.

"Are you stargazing, Dad?"

"Yeah. It always amazes me how much is out there—really makes you think. I feel pretty insignificant when I look at those stars and the vastness of the night sky."

I smiled at him fondly. "I remember when I was little, and we'd come out here in the summer. You'd show me how to pick out the Big Dipper, and the Little Dipper, and all the different zodiac signs. I loved that!" I confided to him, relishing this rare alone time with him.

"Me too. You grew up too fast! If I'd realized how fast it would all go by Steph, I would have made a point to do those kinds of things more often."

"It's not too late, Dad. I'm here now." I felt so melancholy and didn't even try to hide it. I wasn't about to let another important relationship fall by the wayside.

"You sound a little shaky. Did something happen?"

"No, not really." My denial was feeble at best.

He motioned for me to take the chair next to him. Setting the binoculars down on the patio table, he walked over to the back door to flip on the back porch light. The fall air was crisp and cool, and somehow made it feel refreshing and easier to breathe. He sat back down in his chair and looked at me for a few seconds.

"You want to talk to your old Dad about it?" he asked wisely.

"I'm so sad, Daddy."

"About Joe."

I nodded and swoosh came the tears. "I'm really worried about him, and I feel so responsible for _all_ of it!" I swiped at my wet cheeks with the sleeve of my jacket.

"Why? What happened, Steph? You can tell me. I know I don't appear to be interested sometimes, but it's just my defense mechanism around _all_ the women in this family. I _am_ interested in _you,_ Steph—always know that. I want you to be happy more than anything else in this world. That's all a loving parent ever really wants for their child."

"I know, Dad.

"Why are you so worried about Joe?" His eyebrows were knit in concern.

"He was drunk—_extremely_ drunk—earlier today when I went to see him. It was mostly because of me. He couldn't go back to work after our breakup. Daddy, I hurt him so much! He's become so disillusioned with his job—with all the murders and the criminals he faces every day. I didn't even know it. I'm supposed to be the one who loves him the most, and I never saw it coming."

"I've heard that happens to cops a lot, Steph. I don't think he'd blame you for that."

"Of course he wouldn't. But I could have been there for him more. It might never have gotten so hard for him if it wasn't for me. Everything I've done made it so much worse for him."

"You said you hurt him?" My dad's gentle, inquiring voice made me feel more ashamed. How could I tell him about my behavior? _What would he think of me?_

"Does the hurt part have something to do with that trip to Hawaii you took without him?"

"Yes, but it is more than that."

"Ranger?" he asked me quietly. He saw my stunned look and added, "I've overheard your Mom and Val talking."

"Yes," I confessed, hating myself even more.

"How serious are you about Ranger? I mean, Joe's been here at our weekly dinners for the better part of the last four years, so I don't understand. What are your feelings for the man in black?"

I knew Dad didn't know what the heck to think about Ranger. I'd brought him home for dinner twice in the past four years. The first time he joined us my father's eyebrows had stayed permanently scrunched as he stared at the stranger at our table. I think he considered Ranger to be across somewhere between Mr. T and Batman. My Grandma Mazur had asked Ranger if he was Negro, and the only thing my mother could come up with was a question about his name.

The second time was years later. My Dad had offered him a hundred bucks to scare my Grandma Mazur's date Elmer into marrying her, hoping she'd move out and into Elmer's old folk's home. Dad hadn't been impressed by Ranger's choice of wardrobe; Grandma Mazur had tried to make a pass at him and my mother had stared daggers at him the whole evening while tippling wine. In the end, Ranger had taken an early exit.

I knew my father was an equal opportunity bigot, and he only tolerated the eclectic mixture of guests I brought home because he wanted to make me happy. The truth was glaringly obvious that Ranger had never—and would never—fit in with my family.

Joe had always fit—perfectly.

"Dad, I did some really stupid, selfish things. I'm afraid if I tell you, you'll think I'm awful."

"No, sweet girl. I'd think you were human."

"No! As a cop, Joe gets almost no sleep. He's called out nearly every night to go to yet another grizzly crime scene. He has to face the blood and gore—all the corruption and hopelessness of it _every _single day. And I was so inhumane to him. I was cruel and heartless, and I didn't even see how tired he was! All I could think about were my own needs. I mean there he was getting more depressed and exhausted every day, Daddy, and I fought with him about the damned BREAD! He asked me to be responsible for buying it, and I left him over it! Can you believe that? You didn't raise me to be so selfish!"

My father patted my hand comfortingly. "There now, Steph—people fight about the damndest things. It doesn't mean you didn't love him. It just means you're stubborn and a bit pig-headed. And Joe should know that by now better than anyone," he laughed fondly.

"I should have been more supportive."

"You can be that _now_."

"How can I? He doesn't want me around him!"

"I don't believe that," he responded flatly. "Joe loves you. Nothing seems to keep you two apart for long. I'm sure you'll work this out in time." The warmth reflected from his eyes made me feel worse.

I didn't want Dad to have false hope. I knew he liked Joe a great deal. They'd found common ground bonding over their mutual love of sports and had reciprocal respect for one another. Surprisingly, they had a lot in common—two men who had to put up incessantly with Plum women. Why wouldn't they bond?

"No, Daddy, this is different. Trust me. It may never get worked out."

"Why not?"

"There's really no simple way to tell you. I _was_ attracted to Ranger, and I acted on that attraction both here and in Hawaii. Joe knew, and he found us together in Hawaii. He was so hurt, Dad! I'll _never_ forget the betrayal I saw in his eyes. I ruined everything, and he doesn't trust me anymore.

"That _would_ be hard to see, Stephanie. You two have been together a long time. I can't really blame Joe."

"I know. I don't blame him either. It was the worst mistake of my life."

"He may forgive you in time and trust you again. Maybe he just needs some space."

"He says that now, but when he let me go, he was sure I would be happier with Ranger. He wanted me to be able to fly and believed it was what I always wanted."

"Happy with Ranger?" He scratched his graying head. "Hmmm…that I don't know, but the part about flying is the truth. You always wanted to fly. As I recall, you tried more than once to fly right off the garage roof. We were damned lucky you didn't break your neck."

"Yeah, and do you know who helped me up out of the thorny rose bushes when I fell the very first time?"

He knew immediately. "Joseph."

Nodding, I continued, "I was six—he was eight. He's the one who came to my rescue."

"He's always wanted you to be happy. No wonder—he started the habit as a child."

"Joe was right there the moment I fell and hit the bushes. He extended his hand to me and told me it was a good try. Wasn't that the sweetest thing?"

My Dad merely smiled affectionately.

"I don't want to fly without him, Daddy!" I realized being with Joe was what made me fly. I felt more alive with him than I'd ever felt with anyone else in my entire life, and I wanted us to fly together. That last night we'd made love he'd taken me to a place where I'd felt so free and loved I knew I could do anything as long as I had him by my side. It wasn't just the love making; it was the wonderful connection we made—the heartfelt communication we shared. It had been the most magical moment in my life—like I'd jumped off the garage roof and actually soared straight into the air for the first time. The most beautiful part had been not being alone. Joe had been right there beside me.

"I know you always wanted to be Wonder Woman. It just took one person believing in you, and I think Joe _does_ from everything he's ever said to me. He has faith in you. You two have always been destined for one another."

"Why do you say that?" I was totally intrigued by my father's admission.

"Sugar, I don't think you'd remember this, because you were just barely a year old when it happened, but one day Angie Morelli had to take something over to the school. Maybe it was a forgotten lunch to one of the older boys—I really don't remember. Joe must have been about three at the time, and Angie asked your mom to watch him for about an hour while she took whatever it was to Tony or Paulie. I must have just gotten home for lunch myself. She set you and Joe up on a blanket in the living room and asked Joe to help watch you while she went to the kitchen to check on lunch. I was there, but I think she wanted Joe to stay put, so she made him feel like he was helping."

I smiled, thinking of what a little three-year-old version of Joe would have been like. I loved hearing he'd been in my life even earlier than I'd remembered. "I don't recall it, Dad. What happened?"

"You had all your toys around you—dolls, stuffed animals—you name it, you had it. And there was Joe. He had a few things his mom had brought for him. Funny, I don't remember exactly what he had, but I know there were cars and a truck and maybe a train or a plane."

I grinned, eager to hear the rest of the story. "And?"

"Well, my little kleptomaniac…" Dad joked. "You proceeded to take every toy he had and, one-by-one, placed them behind your back. The only thing poor Joe had left in his hands was his little red truck."

I chuckled a little. Apparently he'd always been enamored over vehicles. And if one of his other toys had indeed been a _train_ and not a plane, it would explain our history even more.

"I bet he had a fit and hit me with the truck," I filled in the blanks as best I could. I had no trouble imaging Joe doing anything else at that age.

"No, Steph. _This_ is what was so funny—_and_ maybe a precursor to your future. He looked at you and smiled this wide-eyed grin. He shook his head—almost like a sage old man— and do you know what he did?"

"No." I was on the edge of my seat trying to guess, beyond anxious to find out.

"He scooted over to you, took your hands in his, and placed his last precious toy in them. I've never forgotten the words he used. "Here you go, baby." He gave that truck to you without screaming or crying or yelling at you. He didn't even try to get his stuff back. He was three years old! I thought that was pretty impressive."

"Did he get his stuff back?" I asked, feeling guilty. I'd already taken so much from him. Now I had to feel responsible for something I'd done to him years ago!

"That was funny too. He got all the rest of them back. When I asked you to hand the truck back to him, he said no. He wanted you to keep it."

Tears trickled down my cheeks, and my heart stung as I realized what gentleness had been inside of Joe even at such a tender age.

"You still love him," my Dad stated the obvious, observing my emotionally wrecked state.

"God, yes!"

"I'm not surprised. That's why I had to keep you away from him after that garage incident. You've always been drawn to him."

"What!" My teary eyes widened in alarm. I wasn't sure this was a conversation I wanted to have!

"Oh I know you women all think I'd fly off the handle and go berserk to the point of beating an eight year old up, but give me at least some credit. I do a lot of listening in this house, in case you didn't know. I hear and see more than any of you realize. When I found out you and Joe shared time in the Morelli garage, I was upset, and I went over there, alright!"

My eyes widened. "You did?"

"You're damned right I did."

"Did Joe get in trouble?"

"HELL NO! I told his father if I found out that one hair was harmed on his head I'd call Social Services on _him_ and make sure _all_ his kids found more a loving home."

"You weren't mad at Joe?"

"Joe was eight years old! He had two very intimidating older brothers. It didn't take a wizard to figure out what happened. And to be honest, Steph, I knew you. Curiosity was your middle name. It was two kids playing doctor—innocent exploration. If I'd flown off the handle, what would that have done? Joe went through enough with his family. I didn't want to see him get beaten again—to receive welts over that! God knows he'd gotten them enough for plenty of other pretty normal childlike behavior. I didn't want to see him hurt. I just knew the two of you had to be kept apart. And it worked right up until you were sixteen."

I blushed. Talking to Daddy about these intimate things was embarrassing.

"Stephanie, things happen. Flying off the handle never gets a man anywhere. I know I do it sometimes, but there's a time and a place. Sex is an expression of love. I wouldn't have wanted you to be punished when you were six, over your curiosity toward something that is a natural, beautiful part of life. So why would I want Joe punished at eight?"

"Daddy, thank you so much for protecting Joe when he was little. You were right. His brothers put him up to it. He said he didn't even like girls yet."

My Dad wrinkled his nose in that same funny way I did sometimes. "Well it's a good thing he got over _that_, isn't it."

I'd always loved my dad, but the swell of love and pride I had in what he'd done for Joe was like nothing I'd ever felt.

"Just so you know, Steph—when you were sixteen, and..uh…after you and Joe—" I could tell my Dad was a little uncomfortable talking about this particular intimate subject too. Finally he seemed to gather his fortitude and continued, "I was more worried about you and that broken heart of yours than anything else. It's a pretty helpless feeling when your child makes a choice that could change her life forever, and you can't change it or fix it. You have to watch her in pain, dealing with the consequences. Joe left for the Navy shortly afterward, and I know what that did to you."

"It was really hard. I had no idea he was going. What happened between us, Daddy—it just happened. I didn't plan it. And he didn't either."

"I know." He nodded sympathetically. "It's all in the past. Joe's a different person now. He made mistakes like we all do when we're young and stupid.

Dad took a moment to gather his thoughts. "You know, I wouldn't wish it on anyone to lose a father. Having said that, when Rocco died, I think it gave Joe the only chance he'd ever have to break free of that Morelli Curse. If his Dad had continued to abuse him the way he did the other two boys, I'm not sure Joe would have turned out any differently than Tony and Paulie. I've gotten to know him pretty well, and he's a _good_ man. I'm really proud of who he has become. I totally believe he loves you. I never felt that way about that idiot ex-husband of yours."

"He did. Joe really did love me."

My father made a rare show of affection by taking my hand in his. "So do you love that Ranger character?" he asked with concern in his voice.

"I care for him, but not the way I love Joe. It was a huge mistake, Daddy, and I think I may be paying for it for the rest of my life."

"It's not my business. Once your mother and I raised you it was very important to me to let you make your own adult decisions—to find your own path. We'd done our job, and it was up to you and Val to figure out the rest. Of course we're here for you whenever you need us, Jelly D. You know that. But I have to tell you, when you married that Orr character, I was surprised."

"You were? You said you were happy for me."

"I wanted you to know I supported you, but maybe I should have told you how I really felt."

"What did you feel, Daddy?" I sat up straighter in the lawn chair.

"He wasn't the one for you. I knew it. I didn't see your eyes light up when you looked at him. There wasn't that secret glance between two people in love. I never saw it, and I looked for it—even after you were married."

"You did?" It warmed my heart to know my father had his protective eye on me even after I was grown up.

"I see that look I'm referring to between you and Joseph all the time." He smiled lovingly.

"You do?"

"I do. He loves you. There's no doubt of that in my mind."

"Is that because of what he said to you and Mom one night when I left early—about intending to marry me?"

"No, it's because of what he said to me when he asked my permission to marry you."

"When?" My face was instantly hot, my hands were shaking and goose bumps coursed through my body. I had no idea Joe had ever asked to marry me.

"Well actually it was more than once. He asked me twice. The first time was when you two were actually sort of engaged. He came over to the lodge one afternoon, and we had quite a nice talk."

"Are you kidding me?" I was in shock.

"No. I told him I wasn't sure if you were ready—that Dickie had done such a number on you I was pretty sure he'd scared you off marriage permanently. He said he thought he could change that and said he'd be faithful to you. He promised me that. I gave him my blessing of course. I welcomed him into the family."

"I never knew that, Daddy."

"Well you pulled out of the wedding, so I guess you _weren't _ready. I knew Joe must have been really disappointed."

"When was the next time?" My heart flip-flopped. I couldn't believe Joe had asked my father twice without me having a clue.

"He came over to the house and had dinner the day before he left for Hawaii."

I put my hand to my chest. It was burning, and I could hardly breathe.

"We came out here and talked. He told me he was afraid he might lose you, and that he couldn't imagine his life without you. He asked me if I thought he had a chance."

"What did you tell him?"

"I told him I knew my daughter, and I knew what I saw in your eyes every time you said his name."

"What _do_ you see in my eyes?"

"Faith. You look at him, and I see that light. I see the belief you have in him. A man needs that from a woman as much as he needs love. The love's there too, of course, but it's the believing in him that makes him feel like _Wonder Man_. You do believe in him don't you, Steph?"

"I do. I've always known he could do or be anything he wanted. I've known he was better than his brothers! I felt safe with him, Dad. There's always been this familiar feeling as if I've known him forever. He's always felt like home to me. I've loved him ever since I was a little girl."

"I know. It probably gave me some of this gray hair," Dad quipped, his eyes twinkling.

I smiled at him fondly. "I'm sorry I caused you so much worry as a teenager."

"Well I just didn't want you to grow up too soon, and your love for Joe Morelli was no secret. I'd hear you worming information out of Val all the time. Who's he dating? What did he wear to the dance? Was he having too good a time?"

My father was full of surprises tonight. "You knew?"

"You're my daughter. Wasn't it my job to know?"

"Well, yes, but you and Mom hated the idea of Joe and me. You'd have done anything you could to keep us apart. So I tried to be very careful and never mention his name around both of you"

"We all lived in the same small house, and the walls are thin. I heard things I didn't even want to hear over the years. Grandma Mazur's legendary snoring for one thing." He shook his head woefully while smiling. I figured so long as you worshipped Joe from afar there was no harm."

"You guys knew a lot more than I ever imagined you did."

"That will teach you not to underestimate your parents."

"I'm learning a lot lately." I looked into my Dad's eyes sadly. "Mostly too late."

"Steph, it's never too late to learn—to change—to grow. Look at how much you and Joe have gone through, all the way from that moment as babies to the present. There's a shared history with you two, and with that history is a commitment to each other whether you realize it or not. There is _nothing_ the two of you wouldn't do for one another. That's the foundation you built. It's there. You were with Joe helping him today. If things had been reversed and you needed him, he'd have been there for you too. If that's not commitment, I don't know what is."

Tears filled my eyes. Dad was so right. We did have that unspoken understanding. It was based on a deeper connection that had been there between us from the beginning.

"So Joe was really going to ask me to marry him in Hawaii?" I said it almost reflectively as if I couldn't believe it.

"Yes, sweet one. He was, but he never got the chance, did he?"

I burst into tears again and gulped back a sob. "No."

"That's too bad. Stephanie, if you _really_ want to be with him, you're going to have to compromise a little.

"I don't do that very well."

"A marriage is all about compromise. Your mother and I have been compromising for years."

"You and mom?" I smiled because it wasn't often my parents divulged much information about their secrets regarding the longevity of their marriage. I'd often wondered but had never had the guts to ask.

"We work out a lot of things in bed." My father eyes did a double take as he realized how his words sounded. Laughing at his faux pas, he hastily added, "I mean we talk a lot laying in bed at night."

"You do? I barely see you and Mom say a word to each other." I'd always thought they merely put up with each other. I knew they loved one another, but I didn't realize there was a solid foundation to the relationship as well. They'd always kept so much of their marriage private. I could see now that things between them went a lot deeper than I'd ever realized.

"Do you really think your mother and I could have lasted over thirty years without doing some communicating?"

"I guess it never occurred to me."

"Some of the best conversations we've ever had have been in that bed. We used to whisper about our goals and dreams, and we'd discuss you girls, sharing things we'd noticed and loved about the two of you. We laughed and sometimes we'd even cry. It's been our haven to figure everything out."

"I didn't know." This made so much sense. Joe and I shared that amazing last night in bed—making love and talking—and had connected so deeply. It had given me all the answers I'd ever needed about my feelings for him. He'd always been my destiny.

"What really goes on in marriage is seldom ever known except by the two people involved."

I nodded.

"I've been wanting to tell you some things for a long time."

"Like what?"

"I've wanted you to understand a little more about your mother."

"Okay?"

"She's really very emotional underneath all the baloney she spouts. She doesn't want anyone to know that she's vulnerable, overly emotional and somewhat fragile."

"Mom?" I'd never thought of my mother in those terms. My mother always made it her top priority to feed us. She did our laundry and took care of our needs. I don't remember her ever being anything but strong for us. Her personality was so strong that she came across as overbearing and somewhat annoying. She was never satisfied with the choices I'd made.

"Mom hates _everything_ I do."

"No, that's not true. I know she gives the impression that she does, and she runs off at the mouth about how you should do what everyone else's daughter in the Burg does. But trust me, Stephanie. She is very proud of you and your accomplishments—even though your job scares the hell out of her."

"She is?" You could have knocked me over with a feather. My mother was proud of me? Who knew?

"She tells me she'd never have the nerve to go after things the way you do. She marvels at how brave you are and your tenacity for going after your FTA's. She just doesn't know how to show you her love. And I think she resorts to tippling because she's so damned afraid for anyone to see the real her."

"But why?"

"I'm not sure. We talk about it sometimes. She had a tough time growing up with Grandma Mazur as her mom. Can you imagine how a child would feel dealing with an extroverted personality like your grandmother's? Your mom was pretty sweet and shy when I met her. Grandma Mazur was very blunt and never softened anything when she said it. As much as I know, she loves your mother. That was just her way. And your Mom learned it from her. She doesn't really know any other way, and sometimes kids grow up imitating the bad habits of their parents because it's what they know."

"But Grandma Mazur is pretty easy to talk to. I know she speaks her mind, but she can be really soft and sweet too."

"You're her grandchild—not her child. The two of you are so much alike that she probably melts around you."

"I guess." I melted around Grandma Mazur too.

Your mother spends a lot of time praying for you."

"She does?"

"She loves you so much, Stephanie, and she doesn't ever want you to see her tears. Instead she badgers you and nags you and tells you you're not doing what she wants. I don't think she means to hurt you. In fact, I know she doesn't. She just wants you to be safe—we both do, but we also want to be supportive of you and that crazy job of yours. We really do."

I nodded and smiled my appreciation.

"I have to tell you—when your mother hears you're hurt, it doesn't matter if it's a bullet, a stab wound or just a simple scrape on your knee—she loses it. A mother's job is to protect her child from the time of conception, and that job never ends. She can't handle seeing you in pain—physical or emotional. It's not so easy on your Dad either." His eyes connected to mine, and I saw his deep love and concern for me.

"I don't want you to have to worry about me, Dad. I'm sorry you've had to."

"It comes with the territory, Sugar. I just want you to see that your Mom has never been good at showing you her emotional side. Maybe if she did cry and let you see the tears, you'd know it all comes from love."

"I've hardly ever seen her cry," I admitted.

My dad shook his head, smiling tolerantly. "When we've had to come to visit you in the hospital, it's all she can do not to become hysterical. She holds my hand so tightly I fear she's going to crush it. She loves you so much—never doubt it. She composes herself before we walk into that hospital room, putting up that bitchy front of hers so you won't know how much she's crying inside. Now don't you ever tell her I told you, okay?"

"I won't."

"Good. Now you know."

"Daddy, you've never talked to me like this before? You're always so quiet."

"Well I talk when I have something important to say. Seems to me it's the best way, so when I do have something to say, people will be so shocked they'll listen," He smiled knowingly. "I see how sad you are, and I figured it was high time you and I, had a good chat. You never know what life is going to bring so you need to make sure you say whatever it is you have to say while you still can."

"Thank you. This means a lot. I really needed this tonight Dad."

"That's what parent's do."

"You and Mom have gone through a lot because of me." I felt bad for making my mother cry all the time, and it pierced my heart to know I'd been ignorant about her true feelings for me."

"We both love you and Val dearly. We only want what's best for our children."

"You've been good parents." They'd always been there for us, I saw that now so clearly.

"We both love Joe—just so you know. Whatever happens he's like a member of the family now."

"I know, Dad."

"We don't want you to feel pressured. If you never marry Joe, it's okay. You're mom just wants you happy, as do I. For what it's worth, I think the two of you would make a great team. I'd be rooting for you, that's for sure!"

"If Joe ever asks me again—if I get so lucky as to have that happen—_nothing_ in this world will keep me from saying YES!" I assured my father.

Joe was going to ask me in Hawaii. He'd had it all planned in his head. He must have been so scared to come all that way, harboring so many doubts I'd say yes. He'd been exhausted and had flown all those hours only to find me with Ranger. No wonder he'd let me go.

"I don't know why I was so afraid to commit to Joe, Daddy. I don't know why I do most of what I do."

"It's in the genes, I suspect," he teased me, trying to lighten my self-condemnation.

"Stephanie, it's funny. Usually a child is more like one parent than the other, but you— you're like Grandma Mazur more than anyone else. You both dance to the beat of a different drummer."

"You can't stand Grandma Mazur!" I tilted my head, wondering how Dad could love me and hate her.

"Ah, that's partly for show. I love the old bat. She's one for the books. I get a good laugh every day. Life is never dull with her around."

"You love her?" I was flabbergasted.

"Don't you ever tell her! I'd deny it to my grave, and the way she's going, I'll probably be dead long before she ever goes."

I laughed, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek.

"Your secret is safe with me." Smiling, I added, "So I'm another Grandma Mazur?"

"Joe thinks you're uniquely you—that's how he put it. He also said how life with you was never a dull moment. So there are worse things than being like Grandma Mazur."

I smiled agreeably. Grandma Mazur and I _were_ kindred souls. My heart felt it had tiny bubbles of hope. Joe loved me. I could see that today in so many ways. I loved him too, and now he had the evidence in his hands to prove it. It hadn't been easy to share my Morelli Moments with him, because it was such a part of my soul. But it had felt right when I put it in his hands. Now I was ready to put my heart—body—soul—my entire life into his hands.

"Love has a way of coming full circle, Stephanie, and I believe you and Joe are only part way around the circle so far."

"You really think so?" I could believe it if my father told me it was true.

"Joe will come back to you," Dad assured me, kissing me on the cheek. "Just make sure when he does he knows that _he's_ your Wonder Man."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Not my characters. No Profit.

Carol you made this chapter happen! Thanks for all the constructive help you give me all the time, and for your amazing Beta skills. I am so lucky to have found a friend like you.

Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews too.

Steph POV

I was sitting in a booth at the coffee shop across from the hospital waiting for Eddie Gazzara to join me.

It had been six weeks since I'd been to Joe's house, and I was still worried about him. Eddie understood my need to have progress reports, so we'd meet up every couple of weeks to have coffee and talk privately.

"Hey Steph, how's it going?" Eddie slid into the booth across from me. Our waitress came over immediately to fill his cup. I'd already ordered us some glazed cake donuts and two Boston creams.

I smiled wanly, feeling sad the only link I had left to Joe was through a mutual friend.

"It's going. I'm just not sure where," I answered, looking into the swirl of cream in my coffee.

Eddie took a big bite of his donut. "He's doing a lot better, Steph. In fact, I'd say he's back full throttle."

"Really? You're sure?"

"Yes, I wouldn't tell you if I wasn't. He's going after murder cases like a lion goes after prey. Believe me, whatever you said or did for him changed everything."

"Good—I'm glad." And I wasn't lying. It _was_ good to know Joe wasn't pining over me anymore, but it also made it a little harder to breathe knowing he was getting on with his life—_without me._

"So he's not drinking like he was, and he's eating well and getting rest?" I asked those questions more solicitous of Joe than I'd ever been before.

"Well, he's working late into the night. I've seen him in his office past eleven buried knee-deep in paper work. I know he's always there first thing in the morning, so how much _rest _he's getting is questionable. But he looks okay. He may have lost a few pounds."

"He needs to take care of himself. He can't burn the candle at both ends like that. There has to be a balance." My eyes implored Eddie to make sure that happened.

"Steph, he's throwing himself into the job. I'd be lying if I told you he was his old self. He's pretty quiet; he's not joking around much like he used to do. He doesn't hang out with us at Pino's after work. We all respect what he's going through. He'll be fine soon. Don't worry so much."

"I can't help it, Eddie. I feel terrible about everything I've put him through, and I _miss_ him."

"I'm sure he misses you too, Steph. Just give it time."

"I'm trying, but promise me—"

"You don't have to worry. If I see any signs he's burning out again or he's having a tough time in any way whatsoever, I promise I'll call you."

"Thanks so much, Eddie. You're a great friend."

"I wish he would just forgive you already and take you back, because I know he will eventually. Unfortunately, there's nothing you can do but wait until he's ready. Can you do that?" Eddie asked me, his eyes filled with concern.

"I'll wait as long as it takes." I vowed, my eyes closed in resignation.

"Men always have to lick their wounds for awhile. His pride was pretty mangled. It might be another week or month or even longer. Don't give up. I know he cares for you deeply."

"Eddie, has he said anything to you about me?" I couldn't keep hopefulness from my voice.

"You _know _I can't say anything. I wouldn't tell him anything if he asked what you were saying about him either. I'm a friend to both of you. Just trust this—Joe's working through his _own _stuff. Once he does, I think he'll get in touch with you."

"I hope so."

I didn't want to keep being as self-centered as I'd been the last few years, so in order to be a great friend back, I wanted to show Eddie I cared. "How's your family? I haven't seen your kids in ages, and Shirley too? Is everyone doing well?" I smiled expectantly.

"Yeah, the kids are growing like weeds, and Shirley has her hands full just keeping up with all of their afterschool activities, chauffeuring them back and forth. Of course she whines and complains about it. She wouldn't be Shirley if she didn't, would she?" Eddie laughed, and his eyes crinkled with love for his one-of-a-kind wife.

"I gotta go. I'll see you Thursday at the shooting range, and don't forget the field training at the Academy two weeks from Saturday!" He smiled, throwing down bills for the coffee and donuts. Giving me a comforting pat on the shoulder, he was off to another day of protecting the good citizens of Trenton.

I thought about what Eddie said. I'd never put a lot of time into worrying about Joe before. I'd taken for granted he'd be there whenever I wanted him. When it came to the tender loving care of Joe, I'd realized I'd been lax. He'd always had my back. Now it was my turn to have his.

I was doing as he asked and giving him time and space. My life felt pretty empty without him there to fill it with his love, laughter, passion and friendship. It felt like I was in mourning over losing the love of my life—possibly forever.

I'd gone back to skip tracing gradually. I'd assisted Lula in a few minor apprehensions, always taking my loaded gun—cuffs—fully charged stun gun, and a full can of pepper spray with me. There'd been no unusual incidents so far, and the apprehensions had gone off without a hitch. My confidence was growing and soon I'd go back fulltime.

Lula had been as aggravating as I'd expected. She'd wanted to know how Joe could have just dumped me like that! She was ready to go after Joe with the same rancor she would toward someone who accused her of being fat. I convinced her after numerous attempts that our separation was inevitable. I let her know that sleeping with two men—one of whom loved you unconditionally and wanted to marry you—would only result in heartbreak. She hadn't exactly acknowledged her role in encouraging my lustful behavior. In fact, her exact words were, "Girlie if you play with fiery men like Ranger and Joe, someone's bound to get burned. Hunh!" I guess she'd never expected it would be me.

Where was that advice when I'd really needed it!

My days were pretty much routine. The lonely nights sucked. I started watching Dr. Phil reruns to pass the time, figuring it was inexpensive entertainment. I could hear the sound of Dr. Phil's droning voice while I snacked, painted my toenails or played a game on my computer. I hoped the good stuff would filter into my sub-conscious, and I'd start changing things I didn't even know I needed to change.

It all started when I was switching channels looking for something to watch. I'd stopped for a moment because the subject matter had hit so close to home. It was about a newly engaged couple who had gone together for a few years, and the woman was cheating on her fiancé'. He'd found out and dumped her. She wanted him back, but he'd wanted no part of her. I could see the pain in his eyes, and I could see the regret in hers. I found myself cheering for her. I was yelling at the poor guy to give his stupid fiancé one more chance. I ended up crying like a baby when he got up and walked out before the show was over.

After that, it became a habit to watch absently every night while I found some mundane distraction that allowed me to multi-task.

Another show that had resonated enough to make me stop the nail filing had been about how your home's surroundings reflected the inner you. I'd looked around me and realized my apartment and I were about sixteen and holding. Afterward it had felt like my apartment was screaming at me to "grow the hell up!" I'd always thought about making it more inviting, but my budget the past few years had been in red-alert survival mode. It'd been my own fault because I'd had the same half-baked attitude toward my job as I did my life.

It was high time I listened to my dad and made those changes he'd promised me were never too late to make. It was time to reclaim by life and stop leaving everything to chance. I wasn't about to be the line item on anyone's entertainment budget ever again. Rangemen and the guys at the precinct would not have cause to make me the butt of their jokes any longer. It was time to catch up to the adult I was chronologically. If anyone placed bets on me in the future, the odds would be in _my_ favor.

I'd let my self-esteem take a trip to the garbage dumpster. No wonder I'd felt so lost. I needed to get my life on track. I needed to take whatever steps were necessary to start the process, and if decorating my apartment provided a way to make that happen, I'd decorate like Martha Stewart on steroids.

While riffling through a bunch of decorating magazines trying to get ideas and inspiration, I realized my attitude about painting walls reflected the feelings I had toward commitment and marriage. I had this crazy idea that once I put any paint on the walls I'd be stuck with it forever, just as I'd always believed marriage was a terrible rut I'd be trapped in throughout all eternity. I knew now how unrealistic my thinking had been. Marriage meant I'd have the person I loved more than anyone else by my side. I'd never be lonely or lost again. I'd have my best friend, my lover, my companion, my protector, and my happiness with me forever.

Joe had told me our marriage would have been our own. We'd do things _our_ own way. If our living together had been any indication, he'd been telling the truth. Whenever I'd allowed us to live together, he'd never demanded I do anything. My own projections of what I thought he'd do or say were what had sent me packing every time.

I wanted another chance to have Joe with me every day, to bask in the happiness-the truly mind-blowing joy of having him in my life. I remembered that it had felt that way to me when our relationship had first began. Not long after, however, my fear had set in, and I'd cut myself off from feeling the happiness. I'd made every excuse in the book why we couldn't work out. It continually ping ponged within my head that I might not love him after all—or he might not love me enough. I always knew inside we loved one another on a level so deep it defied explanation. I longed to tell him how much he'd changed everything for me that last morning in my apartment. I'd been deathly afraid of throwing myself completely into anything permanent. I wasn't afraid of that anymore. I wanted permanence more than I'd wanted anything in my life. I wanted Joe back, and I'd do whatever it took to make that happen.

I made a list of my goals. I wanted to put getting Joe back at the top, but that wasn't realistic, so instead I put myself at the top. I would start with something simple like decorating and work my way on down. Little did I know that decorating was going to take care of quite a few of the items on that piece of paper!

Almost right away I realized I was scared of decorating. Why, I didn't know. I only had myself to please, right? But that was the problem. I didn't even know what pleased me. I'd gotten so contradictory and dishonest over the last few years I'd totally lost my own identity. And, if I was being completely honest, I wanted to do this for Joe as much as for myself. I wanted him to walk in and be enchanted with what I'd done. Most of all, I wanted him to be enchanted by _me. _I wanted him to see that little Stephanie Plum from the Burg had finally transformed into an adult. My soul searching was helping me get the determination to dig my heels in and create the perfect refuge for Joe and me, even though I knew there might never be a Joe and me again.

Who knew decorating could present about as many challenges as skip tracing? Who knew that the first thirty colors I picked out would end up being rejected once brushed next to one another on the walls? I easily made ten trips back and forth to the home improvement store before deciding on a combination. Decorating became the poster child for my indecisive personality, showing me once more how I'd allowed myself to seesaw between Joe and Ranger the same way I seesawed over paint colors.

No longer would I allow myself to shirk from making decisions. I purchased the colors that meant the most to me and touched my heart—the ones that reminded me of Joe.

I realized painting would be easier if I had some help.

I called Connie and Lula and invited them over making it sound like it would be more fun than a trip to Disney World. When that didn't work, I honestly admitted I needed the help. Lula and Connie had both agreed to come. In exchange, I'd asked them to pick up whatever food they wanted and told them I'd reimburse the cost.

It was eight o'clock on a Saturday morning, and they were about to arrive. I'd already prepared the rooms with plastic tarps and painter's tape. I only knew to do that because some poor guy at the home improvement store had instructed me on it for over an hour. I'd nodded my head absently as I tried to comprehend his instructions, and by the time the poor chump was done, sweat had been pouring off his forehead and he'd begun to stutter.

I had no idea what skills any of us had in the painting department, so I tried to make sure all the areas where the paint was not wanted, including Rex's cage, were partitioned off with the painter's tape. Poor Rex—I couldn't imagine how it must feel to be so tiny and have giant humans doing really weird things around you all the time. Rex was a good sport and seemed to be dealing with it in his usual hamster way by running on his wheel.

"Hey skinny girl, your cheap ass labor has arrived." Lula opened the door without knocking. _Doesn't anybody ever knock anymore?_ They'd arrived all right—with breakfast pizza, biscuits, soda and more snack food than God could make in a week.

We hunkered down to the floor—backs to the walls—and started the day by eating up most of the takeout food and a good portion of the junk food too. Then we had to rest awhile, because we'd all eaten too much. Unfortunately, this allowed for the dreaded girl talk. I quickly became the subject of some much overdue interrogation.

"Okay, girlie, we've held our tongues _long_ enough. I've barely said anything and for Lula you know that just ain't normal! So now how about you spill your guts and I don't want any more of your skinny ass excuses. _It's complicate—hunh_!" she uttered distastefully.

"Now Lula, if Steph prefers not to talk—" Connie tried her best, but stopping Lula was like trying to hold back a tsunami.

"Lula wants some clear, hard answers. I mean Officer Hottie, with that fine ass of his, broke it off with you. I figured it had somethin' to do with him finding you and that Cuban Batman of yours in Hawaii doing the nasty. I don't get that. It's not like the two of you were ever exclusive." She scrunched her eyebrows seemingly confused.

Why had I asked them over to paint? What was I thinking? My mind must have been off somewhere Joe-dreaming not to have seen what a horrible idea this was.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, already feeling defensive. I didn't know where Lula got her ideas. Sometimes I thought she put information in her head and turned on the blender button that said pulverize. Her mouth spewed out so many inaccurate observations it was the only sensible explanation.

"What I mean is Joe was always gettin' some on the side with that Teri Gilman sleaze, and you were always with Ranger—the rare Cuban cigar," Lula stated emphatically, believing it to be true.

Connie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and I decided it was better just to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"I was the only one unfaithful in our relationship. Joe never strayed." I felt so responsible for my actions I thought it only fair to clarify Joe's innocence.

Two gawking sets of eyes stared me down. I'd shocked them so much they'd gone silent.

"Not once." I answered the unspoken question in their eyes.

Lula's eyes opened so wide, with her wild spiky hair it looked like she'd put her finger in an electric socket and had been charged with 1500 volts.

Connie's audible gasp was proof to me Joe was the exception to just about every rule.

"Never?" Connie asked dumbfounded.

"No." I answered, feeling the full weight of my stupidity once again.

"In all these years—I thought you two had decided to see other people," Connie stated with wonder.

I shook my head, feeling the embarrassment of my infidelity.

"Wow, isn't that Officer Hottie Pants full of surprises! Boy oh boy, girl, did you ever blow a good thing!" Lula always knew just how to be supportive.

"Is it really over? I mean, you and Joe have been back and forth so many times, I can't believe it would ever be over for the two of you," Connie said in a sympathetic voice.

"Yes—at least for now. And I don't know if Joe will ever want to give me another chance, so if you two don't mind, I really think we should get started with the painting."

"Well, in the meantime you still got Ranger! And _that's_ not a bad consolation prize if you ask me," Lula said emphatically, planting her hands on both of her curvaceous hips. "In fact, that man is prize winnin.'"

"Lula, nobody asked you!" Connie admonished. She looked over at me, obviously observing the miserable look on my face. She shook her head in silent apology as Lula went for the jugular.

"Ranger could curl a girl's toes. Morelli's hot and all, but if it were me, I'd have chosen Ranger. I don't blame you one bit for having done the horizontal tango with him. Morelli's got a fine ass and all, but there's no mystery to him. He's no Batman. With him, what you see is what you get—only you ain't getting any from him anymore, so I guess that don't really apply."

I felt the food I just ingested threaten to rise in my throat. Joe wasn't a man of mystery, and that's one of the many reasons I loved him. What I saw was exactly what I wanted. Hearing Lula talk about the depth of Joe made everything I'd ever felt for Ranger seem like nothing more than an empty, deluded fantasy.

"Lula!" Connie tried once again to stop her.

"I'm just sayin' she still has the Cuban fire. At least she's still getting some, otherwise you know her. When she doesn't get any, she's little Ms. Crankypants!"

"I'm not with Ranger any longer, and I never will be again," I clarified flatly.

"Did Ranger dump your skinny white ass too? Whoa girl, you got some bad, bad Mojo! Is this left over from when Grandma Bella gave you the eye?"

I took a huge, deep breath. "There is no eye, okay? That was me making an excuse for my asinine behavior. Ranger was never more than a distraction I chose as a reason to run away from Joe. I thought I wasn't ready to be in a committed relationship with him, so I fooled myself into believing I loved Ranger too. It was the perfect way to stop myself from having what I've always wanted—Joe."

"If you knew you always wanted Joe, then why are we even talking about this!" Lula said, shaking her head like I was loco. "And why in God's name would you go all crazy on Joe when you was sleeping with Ranger?" Her head shook disapprovingly.

"What do you say we start painting?" Connie suggested, getting up to grab a roller.

After that conversation, I thought things could get back to normal, but normal would never be a word I would use to describe the rest of my day.

I'd set up my paint can on the ladder and climbed up a few steps to begin the trimming when Lula decided she had to have her big gulp Coke nearby. She put the Coke next to the paint at the top of the ladder. We all started the job, humming and whistling while we worked—a regular trio of Snow Whites.

Lula got thirsty after about two minutes and swiped at the top of my ladder, not bothering to look at what she was grabbing. Her hand hit the paint can with a loud resounding thud. The paint teetered, then toppled off the ladder as it made its decent to the floor. It almost seemed like slow motion as paint splattered, shooting out in every direction. My arms flayed out, trying to avoid the attack of color that was drenching my body in chocolate brown. And as luck would have it, the walls now drenched in chocolate brown were the ones that were supposed to be aqua blue.

I had to run to the store for more paint. And by the time I got back, I could hear Lula and Connie arguing loudly through my front door. I took _another _deep breath and opened the door. Lula and Connie had apparently decided while I was gone to forgo painting walls in favor of a combination paint/food fight. They were both drenched in all three colors—aqua, chocolate brown, and beige. My eyes widened more as I took in the food, now doused in paint, sticking to them and gradually sliding down their spandex and polyester clothing. It was a gooey mixture of Cheetos—Gumdrops—and crumbs and cream from sorely abused Tasty Cakes.

"What—the—hell— happened?" I asked trying to decide if I should laugh or cry.

"What we had here was a failure to communicate," Lula began. "Now I told Connie—"

"I told YOU! That wall was supposed to be beige not blue!" Connie retorted.

"Aqua," I corrected hopelessly.

"Green, Blue, Chartreuse!" Lula threw her paintbrush, holding her hands up in the air and splattering more of the wrong colors all over the place. "Why the hell do you need so many colors anyway? What's the purpose? I mean you pick a color—ONE color—and you stick with it. Then no one has to argue and be silly ass wrong about the color of the damn walls!"

"She told us what color goes where," Connie managed through her clenched teeth.

"Well how am I supposed to remember! Is this that damn color by numbers painting shit? Cuz if that's what you wanted, you should have painted some stupid ass numbers on the wall, then marked the cans with the matching numbers! That would have made it so much easier, and then Lula could have figured it out. These colors are enough to put Lula to sleep. All this paintin's making me tired." She yawned and stretched her arms out as if she'd been painting for days.

"Are you through?" I asked, having trouble not clenching my own teeth. I looked past Lula into the kitchen, and my mouth dropped open in horror. Rex's cage had not escaped the deluge of the runaway paint. His cage bars were dripping in Aqua. His little wheel had turned from silver to brown, and I could see his little soup can shaking as though an earthquake had rocked it.

"Oh my God! Rex!" I walked over to the cage, and my sweet Rex popped out for only a moment. I could see a perfect spot of blue and brown paint had hit his poor little head. His black, marble eyes were bugging out as they darted around for a few more seconds, looking to see if he was still in the war zone. I thought if the poor creature could talk, we'd be hearing a litany of angry profane opinions. He scurried back into his can, which started to shake, rattle and roll all over again.

"I'm sorry, Steph. We'll clean it all up, and I think it would be best for everyone if we didn't keep helping you!" Connie exclaimed, her voice filled with frustration.

"All this was a bad, idea! Whose was it anyway? Was this YOUR idea, Connie? Who ever said we were painters? We don't know nothin' about painting walls, especially when they is more than one color." She said pointing at me accusingly. "Girl, you don't know much about sticking with one man—one color—or one _anythin'_ do you?"

Great. _Now_ Lula could see the value of sticking with ONE man. Where had been that morality when she'd told me to take what both Joe and Ranger were offering at the same time!

I forced a smile. "I think you two have done enough. I really appreciate the offer of help, but, you know, painting relaxes me, and I could use that along with some time alone—right about _now_."

I gathered up the remainder of the food and offered it to Lula, secretly withholding a big bag of chocolate for me. I'd earned it, and I'd be eating it the rest of the day as I cleaned up that gigantic mess!

They left as fast as their feet could carry them. Watching them scurry to their cars, I double locked the door to make certain they could never get back inside again.

I surveyed the damage. First, I'd have to clean Rex's cage—then the rest. Next I'd call Dillon and bribe him with as many cases of beer as it would take for him to help me paint my apartment. Who needed friends when you had a cool landlord?

The following day, with much less stress, Dillon and I worked side-by-side. Listening to oldies on the radio, we took turns singing the wrong words off key. Time passed quickly, and before we knew it, we'd done the living room, dining room and the kitchen. We tackled the bathroom and my bedroom the following Saturday, and slowly my apartment began to take shape.

I'd paid my rent two months ahead with the windfall from capturing the Rug. All my monthly bills were paid as well, so it was time to go shopping! Mary Lou and I went together and had so much fun. It'd been too long since she and I had laughed and hung out the way girlfriends are supposed to do. Our lives had taken such different directions, and we'd had too few encounters over the last several years. It was so good to be with her again—just two girlfriends taking a day to shop. Why had I let my friendship with her go for so long? Women needed other women. I needed my best friend, and I wanted to be there for her if she ever needed me.

We were flopped down on some living room furniture at the store after having picked out my contemporary black living room set and a dark chocolate brown dining set. Taking a much-needed break, I pushed back the seat of the black leather recliner and said, "Oh, this is nice."

"You're thinking about Joe, aren't you?" Mare commented wisely.

"How do you know?"

"Because of the dreamy look in your eyes."

"Mare, be honest. Am I crazy to think that someday he might sit in this chair? I can see him so clearly coming home after a long day of work. He's exhausted half the time, and I really want him to enjoy his evenings. It's the only time he gets to himself."

"Is that why you splurged on the flat screen TV too?" she asked me knowingly.

"Yes," I confessed. My cheeks felt flushed. Oh God, Mary Lou—what if he _never_ comes back?"

"You're going to buy that chair aren't you?" she smiled in complete understanding.

"He'd love it. He could put his feet up, and it would be good for his back. Sometimes I'd see him stretching it like it hurt, and he gets so little sleep at night. It'd be a great way for him to relax and watch his games."

"You don't have to convince me, Steph." She tilted her head quizzically. "How _are_ you planning to get him back?"

"I don't have a plan for that. I only have a plan for _me_, starting with my apartment. I want to be an adult. I want to be the woman he deserves. I want to have his respect and his love back, and I want him to know that I treasure him and what we have together."

Mare smiled her approval. "Okay, then it's time to find some accessories for that furniture you bought. It'd probably be a good idea to get a pole lamp for the chair in case Joe wants to read the paper or a book." She validated every reason why she was my best friend by going along with my fantasy. There was no judgment— only loving support in her voice.

We spent the day together until she had to go pick up her kids from school. I promised myself this was the first of many fun times she and I would share. I didn't want to lose our bond. Friends as loyal as Mary Lou were hard to come by.

Two weeks later the renovations were complete. The new furniture and accessories had arrived and were placed on shelves and hung on the walls. I'd surprised myself—my apartment was no longer bohemian teenager. I didn't know the technical decorating terms, but I knew that at last I'd made it into a place that actually looked and felt like a sophisticated adult lived there.

Gazing around me at the variations of chocolate, aqua blue and beige I'd selected, I had to admit the chocolate brown had been chosen because it reminded me of Morelli's eyes. If I couldn't see them every day, I'd bask in the color of them as much as I wanted. The blue was for _my_ eyes, which Joe had always told me he loved. The beige was the exact shade of a sexy nightie I'd worn—one of Joe's favorites.

There were overstuffed pillows with geometric patterns matching the colors of the walls. Additional pops of complementary oranges and soft yellows were added to some of the room's accessories. The result was amazing.

"His" chair nestled at an angle that fit perfectly for viewing the flat screen TV. I allowed myself a moment of dreaming he was in it, smiling up at me as he drifted off to sleep. Tears were never far away when I had those fantasy moments, and I had to return to the harsh reality Joe wasn't really there.

Surveying the rest of the changes I'd made, my smile grew wider as I took in my new surroundings, wishing I'd done it ages ago.

The kitchen was a newly painted coffee latte. I had new linoleum that looked like expensive tile installed on the floor. Pendant lighting, sunset-colored accessories and paintings were added as well, creating a much more inviting look.

I walked through the apartment to the bathroom.

Dillon knew how much I'd always hated my horrid bathroom. He'd suggested tile paint, so now the ugly orange and brown tiles were a creamy white. We'd transformed the walls with a deeper shade of the aqua I'd chosen for the living room. Dillon had even sprung for a new pedestal sink and a small deep Brazilian walnut vanity cabinet with drawers.

I felt like a woman at last—not a scared unsure little girl who couldn't make up her mind about anything. Maybe choosing paint colors was a form of therapy. Who knew? All I knew was when I walked into my place at night, it would now feel like a retreat from the outside world rather than a continuation of the chaos I dealt with all day long.

Pulling back the new quilt from my bed, I laid down and put my hands under my head to survey the new room. It was now painted a light cream. The walls were adorned with natural mixed-medium art. I'd gotten a moss-green chaise for the side of the bed by the fire escape window, replacing the hand-me-down club chair. A screen, that looked like it originated in the Far East, had been placed behind my bed. The massive full-length mirror, leaning against the wall by the door, added light and made the room look bigger. While I'd accessorized minimally, it'd all been in good taste, and I was very happy with the results.

I was in my favorite thinking place, daydreaming about what it'd be like the first time Joe and I made love in this room again. How romantic it would feel when Joe lit the candles and turned on the soft, slow music. I could almost feel his hands caressing me, and his mouth teasing against mine. I kept my eyes closed to make the feelings last. I didn't want reality to hit me like it did every other time. I wanted him there so badly that I wondered once again why I'd ever felt resistance to his presence in my life.

Opening my eyes, I blew out the disappointment. I wanted so much for him to see I'd taken the steps to make my residence reflect maturity and refinement. He'd never complained about my eclectic apartment, but I wanted him to realize I'd finally grown up. God knows he'd waited long enough for it to happen—and so had I.

A few days later, I decided to unveil the new me to my family.

For the very first time in my adult life, I'd invited my parents and my grandmother over for dinner, and I prepared everything myself. I guess I'd learned a little something from watching my mother cook over the years, and I'd helped Joe enough times to know how to put a pretty decent spaghetti sauce together.

The sauce was simmering, and the water was bubbling while the pasta cooked. The salad was made, and I'd just taken out the crusty garlic bread when the bell rang, and I was ready to go for a round or two with my family. Opening the door, my smile drew as I watched their reactions to the changes I'd made.

My mother walked into my apartment, and her mouth fell open into a big "O". I could tell she loved it.

"Oh Stephanie! This is just beautiful. It's beautiful, isn't it, Frank?" She looked around in wonder.

My dad grunted his approval and gave me a big hug, so I knew he was impressed.

"I'll say it is! Grandma Mazur said appreciatively. "Why you're a regular Martha Washington!"

"Stewart!" my mother snapped at her. "She's like Martha Stewart!"

"That's what I said!" Grandma Mazur retorted, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

"Are you sure you didn't want me to bring anything, Stephanie? I could run to the market—"

"No, Mom. Dinner's just about ready." I had my dining room table set with placemats, cloth napkins and faux crystal goblets. I'd lit candles and had some fresh cut flowers in one of my new vases.

It was just a matter of minutes before we sat down to the plates of spaghetti, sprinkled with freshly grated parmesan, a nice hearty green salad filled with veggies and toasted slivered almonds and perfectly toasted garlic bread with a little fresh basil. My parents couldn't begin to hide their astonishment. I smiled widely, waiting for a critique of my first meal.

"This is amazing." My mother was flabbergasted. "You are full of surprises tonight, Stephanie. You know, maybe I should have you help me choose some new colors for our house? And I love what you did to the kitchen. I think we're overdue for some updates. Don't you think so, Frank?" she asked, not really caring what he thought.

My father offered his normal grunting sound, which could mean "yes, what a good idea" or "hell no, why do we need to change anything"? Now that I knew better—that he really _was_ hearing and seeing everything—it warmed my heart to know there was a lot more to my dad than I'd ever realized.

"I'd be happy to help you, Mom." Who knew she'd ever turn to me for advice? I smiled at her, and she smiled back at me, her admiration clearly showing. It made a little zingy zap go off in my heart. She really did love me! I'd always known it, but it was still nice to see it in her eyes. I caught a secret grin from my dad, and I winked at him conspiringly.

After dinner I showed them the bedroom and the newly redone bathroom. My mother was so bowled over I was afraid her mouth might freeze into a permanent "O". It was all I could do not to laugh.

We sat back down to the table to have dessert—everyone's favorite part of the meal in the Plum family.

"The cake is from Tasty Pastry. I thought it best not to leave dessert to chance."

"Stephanie, you would've done just fine baking your own cake." High praise from my mom indeed!

"Why, Stephanie, you're a grown woman!" Grandma said, like it had somehow happened overnight. This whole meal has been just delicious!"

"I'm trying, Grandma."

"I know you are darling. Is this all for Joe?" she whispered to me knowingly.

I winked at her and smiled.

"You know, I'm still thinking about getting my own apartment soon. You could help me decorate it too. We could get some of those nice black velvet pictures. You've seen 'em, haven't you? They have dogs playing poker—and some of Jesus too. Wouldn't that be nice?"

I hoped Grandma didn't see the look of horror on my face. I tried to hide it, but the picture in my head was not pretty.

"Mother, those pictures are disgusting!" my mother informed her on no uncertain terms.

"They're no more disgusting than those ugly pieces of fruit and vegetables you have hanging in _your_ kitchen. Sometimes the cucumber in the one looks just like your father's—"

"Grandma!" I could hardly hold in the laughter.

"I'm just saying everybody has his or her own taste, and mine is partial to them black velvet masterpieces," she nodded her head affirmatively. "Oh, and I'd really like some of that clear, plastic blow-up furniture—you know—like they had back in the sixties. Or was it the seventies? It'd be nice and light, and I could change the rooms around all by myself."

I bit my lip at the image of Grandma with her black velvet paintings and blow up furniture.

"Maybe I could find a life-size cage too! Then I could get some of those Go-Go boots and a nice white leather mini skirt. That way, when I have my honey over, I could get in it and dance for him." Grandma Mazur's eyes were filled with anticipation.

My mother's were filled with terror.

"Pass the cream." My dad said to change the topic.

"I sure think Joe would like it here, Have you thought of inviting him over? I bet he's forgotten whatever you two fought about by now. It wouldn't hurt to ask. I sure would if I were you." Grandma Mazur's eyebrows rose a mile as she smiled encouragingly. "Everyone at the beauty shop is wondering why he hasn't started dating anyone new yet. I bet it's because he can't get over you."

I just smiled back and closed my eyes, wishing he _would _be here someday to see my apartment—maybe even share it with me.

The evening went so much better than I'd expected.

The only thing missing was Joe. I wished I could've asked him to come and see the changes I'd made like Grandma Mazur suggested. Still, it'd been really nice having my parents and Grandma over, and I was pleasantly surprised with my mother's reaction to my previously undiscovered talents.

After they left, I stood in the living room dreaming about what it would have been like if Joe and I had entertained my family. I could picture us sharing the clean up—clearing the table and relaying the dirty dishes to the kitchen. He'd come up behind me and wrap his arms around me and tell me how much he loved me. We'd kiss voraciously while we stumbled our way into the bedroom make delirious love all night long. And the beauty of it was, Joe wouldn't have cared one way or the other whether I'd made the meal myself or not. I sighed, realizing how rare of a man I'd had, and I knew if I ever was lucky enough to have one more moment with him again, I'd tell him. I knew now just how blessed I'd been.

Tonight I'd taken the first steps on the road to a metamorphosis. It was time for me to act and feel like a woman. While it had felt a little scary to make those changes, it also felt liberating to know I could be and do whatever I chose if I would just let go of the fear. Fear had held everything back in my life. It was a powerful, crippling emotion I no longer wanted to live with. I'd been afraid to grow up. Standing in my beautiful new apartment, I realized what I was feeling inside was a perfect reflection of me on the outside too.

It was good.

I felt calmer and more capable than I'd ever felt before. I felt ready to embrace my womanhood with maturity and wisdom. I wasn't going to go off half-cocked anymore. Even when it came to men, I'd learned a hard, painful lesson. I would be sure of my feelings. I wouldn't be manipulated by my lack of self-control, or my own low self-esteem.

I should have asked for more emotional support from Joe. If I had, he would have given it to me. I'd have had all the confidence I'd ever needed. I know that now after all the lovely things he'd made me see in that mirror that last morning we'd had in my apartment.

I should have told Ranger I wasn't a pawn to be played with. I was a woman with feelings and needs—not his sex toy or bargaining chip. I'd had real feelings for him, but the fact he'd always qualified his supposed love for me had done more damage than good to my self-image.

Either you LOVE someone or you don't. It should be unconditional—unqualified and completely immeasurable. That's the love I had with Joe. He had loved me that way. He never said I love you this much or that way. He loved me _always._ He was never shy about it. He'd said it; he'd showed it and he'd proven it time and again. If I ever had the chance again, I wanted to give him that same kind of love.

I had to find a way now to take all the lessons I'd learned and figure out exactly what I wanted to do with my life. In the meantime, skip tracing would pay the bills. So tonight was the last night of freedom. I'd made a big enough dent in my bank account that I no longer had time to reflect. It was time to act. Tomorrow I'd be back to bounty hunting full time.

I hoped to God I'd learned enough to become even more successful. My first priority was safety. I wouldn't take the love of my family and friends for granted. I'd been selfish and thoughtless about their feelings. That was the norm for the old Stephanie. The new woman, who'd emerged after going through so many trials of pain, fire and loss, was determined to be thoughtful, loving and trustworthy.

Living my life as a lie was over. I wasn't hiding from anyone or anything any longer. I was ready to face the world again.

And the world had better be ready for me.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Thirteen

Not my characters. No profit.

This note is to _some_ of the Babes who are reading Cupcake stories. I wish with all my heart you would respect our right to write our stories without turning it into something ugly and hateful. We are here to share our talents and enjoy one another's take on the Books. A majority of the Babe stories twist Joe's character into someone totally evil and unrecognizable. We don't do that to Ranger's character but his past is ambiguous.

Why is he keeping all his secrets if he is so squeaky clean?

Joe was a kid when he made his mistakes and he has tried to change his life in the books. I shouldn't be surprised because often times in real life we hold people in the place they used to be by judging them and not allowing for a person to change. Show me _one _teenager that hasn't done stupid things they regret!

If you read the books and see the times Joe takes care of Stephanie very lovingly, when he helps her get cleaned up and he tells her how sorry he is too see her hurt. That is the reality that is Joe.

Why does this always have to be a warlike atmosphere? Isn't there enough of that hateful vibe going on in the world? Why bring it here to a place that is supposed to be one of freedom to write creatively? I am so disappointed in the attitude going on here that I almost didn't want to write my story and post it. There is so much hate and intimidation from _some_ of the Babes that I know there are other Cupcakes who are actually afraid to write their stories. It's really sad that a talented writer won't ever get to express themselves because they fear the wrath of the Babes.

I guess the internet makes it seem like it's okay to say whatever you want and not consider a person's feelings when you do. That is sad too. These are _real_ people who are trying to express themselves and they should be given the same freedom and consideration you expect, to write things the way they interpret them, without fearing your retribution.

Carol, you are such an amazing writer, and your instincts for how to make the words flow are perfect! Thanks for always being there for me.

I have to let you know I'm going away for a week so probably no updates for a couple of weeks.

Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. To those I can't thank in person, your kind words mean a more than I can say.

Information regarding the situation of Prisoners and Law enforcement in New Jersey came directly from a factual report made in 2009 by the _**State of New Jersey**_

_**Commission of Investigation**_

**Joe's POV**

I sat in the office of Captain Michaels, waiting for him to arrive for our meeting. It had been three months, two weeks and six days since the break-up with Stephanie. My mind was focused on work most of the time, but when I had these rare empty moments to myself, my head automatically filled with thoughts of her. The math came automatically, because I'd started my calculations as soon as I returned to work. Adding a day, changing it from days to weeks and weeks to months—it was all easy.

It was being apart from _her_ that was so fucking hard.

God I missed her. I missed the silly grin she'd give me first thing in the morning that told me it was more than okay for my hands to continue to sensually peruse her body. I loved those early morning encounters, because they started my days out so enjoyably. Unfortunately, my days would go downhill drastically from that point on. But to be on a high like that first thing in the morning had made it possible to take all the lows. She'd been my beacon every day—my place to come home to, and without her, life was monotonous and lonely.

I hadn't had a morning like that in far too long. At this point, I was pretty sure I'd capitulate at the mere sight of her. But I _hadn't_ seen her. Funny how two people who had constantly been in one another's orbit for years couldn't accidently run into one another even once in over three months! I prayed I'd run into her. I knew if I did I wouldn't be strong enough to resist her smile, her laugh, her eyes—her everything.

The door to the office opened, interrupting my melancholy thoughts. Captain Michaels arrived with a woman. She was about five feet nine inches tall—a couple inches taller than Steph. She had coppery red hair pulled back in a twist. Her complexion was pristine, and her features were totally striking. Yes, I missed Stephanie terribly and I wanted her back, but I wasn't dead either. This woman was memorable. She had a sprinkling of freckles across her nose and emerald green eyes that sparkled when she smiled.

"Joe, I'd like you to meet M—Ka—Katie O' Grady." I noticed the Captain had trouble with the name, probably because it was a little odd due to the rhyme.

"Katie, this is Detective Joe Morelli." He made the introductions, and I extended my hand to shake hers. Her handshake was strong and confident.

"Please—call me Kate." She was obviously embarrassed by the little girl version of her name.

"Joe, Katie's father is a good friend of mine. She's actually with the FBI. I've known Katie—sorry—" he corrected, "_Kate_ since she was young."

"It's okay, Bill. My own parents don't remember." Her tinkling laughter was melodious to my ears.

"So you're just here visiting Captain Michaels and his family?" I inquired politely, trying to ignore the feeling that something else was afoot here.

"Well, uh…actually—" Kate stammered.

"Kate's here in a more official capacity. She is on loan to us from New York. She'll be traveling back and forth doing some research into the uh… details of the—situation that has recently come to our attention."

I knit my eyebrows as the Captain stuttered and stammered. Could he have been any more, vague? I turned my eyes to Kate hoping for a better explanation.

"I will do whatever is necessary, Detective Morelli, to assist you and this district in your goals. I have extensive experience with this type of operation, and I assure you I'm more than capable of handling myself in every situation that might occur."

I felt like I was being handed a big package of baloney wrapped in a deceitful red bow. The hesitation in Captain Michaels' voice combined with the vague bullshit Kate was spewing alerted my suspicious nature. But what could I do? I played along like a good officer of the law should. "Welcome aboard," I smiled. I would get to the bottom of this very soon. This operation was still in the earliest planning stages, and there was no reason to bring this woman in on it so soon—none that I could come up with anyway.

"I was thinking maybe you should take Kate out to lunch and get to know her a little since we'll all be working together," Captain Michaels suggested almost too casually.

"What?" Now I was _really_ baffled.

"I think it would be a good thing to show her around Trenton—you know, make her feel at home." Captain Michaels looked like he wanted to give me Grandma Bella's evil eye. "I have another meeting right after this one, or I'd do it myself." His voice indicated there was no other answer but "yes" to his request.

"Sure," I answered, swallowing my irritation. _Shit!_ I had tons of paperwork to get through, and now I had to babysit!

"Joe, it might be best if you don't let on to anyone else Kate is FBI. Maybe you could just say she's someone you met while you were in the Navy?" Captain Michaels suggested.

"Okay." I knew there were times FBI had to go undercover. But if she was here to do research, I had to wonder why the hell she'd suddenly become a long lost friend from my Navy days. Why would _I _be part of her cover at all?

"It's routine for us, you know. We never know who we might run into, and, on a need to know basis, you are the only other person besides Captain Michaels who needs to know." Kate informed me with a reassuring smile.

I decided to forego the barrage of questions plowing through my head and to be polite and cooperative instead. "I'll just check on a few things and meet you by the water cooler in ten minutes," I told Kate, trying my best to be courteous.

We were seated at Pino's, and the waitress had just taken our order. This felt so weird sitting in what was the only booth available. _Our _booth—Steph's and mine. It took me back to happier times. I could almost feel Steph's hand on my leg as we talked intimately, sharing our food with one another and whispering teasing comments to one another about what was to come after one of our late dinners. I squirmed in my seat trying to shake off the damned memories.

"Joe, I'm sorry that Michaels dumped me on you." Kate interrupted my thoughts, smiling apologetically.

"Oh no, it's fine. I just have a lot on my mind. I'm sorry! I'm not giving you a very good impression of the Trenton Police Department." I made an effort to smile. Her eyes were really pretty, shimmering green jewels, and there was something deeper in them. I sensed she had a maturity and wisdom beyond her age—probably a few years younger than me.

"Don't worry, Joe. You have an excellent reputation. It was really nice to meet the face behind a name. Sam Mason talked about you after that takedown you helped him with in New York."

"Oh wow, you know Sam? What a character he is!" I relaxed a little, realizing we had at least one more person in common.

"Yes, he spoke very highly of you. He said you knew how to get the job done, and that your well-honed instincts were instrumental in making that bust."

I smiled, trying not to blush. It had been a long time since a woman extolled any of my virtues. With Steph I always felt like I was fighting a World War Three battle to stay in her good graces. I knew some part of her always expected the worst of me. It was hard to live under that predictable, reduced rank all the time. It was a little too much like being a Morelli, which was a never-ending stigma to rise above as well. Maybe Steph and I weren't good for one another after all. Maybe I'd get over her someday

Maybe when hell froze over!

"I read the report. If you hadn't figured out that connection between Marconi and Scarpelli it never would have happened." Kate's words brought me back to the present.

"Well it was a team effort. We worked well together," I offered humbly.

"You're modest too." She took a sip of her wine.

"So tell me about yourself, Katie. Sorry, I mean Kate." I was trying my best to be hospitable.

"Don't worry, everyone does it."

"So did you grow up in New York?" I made eye contact. She had beautiful eyes. They were clear—warm—and almost mesmerizing. _Why did I keep thinking about her eyes?_

"No, actually my family lives in Boston. We're a big family like the Kennedy's and boisterous and crazy. Irish Catholic, green eyed—redheads!" She grinned affectionately. I could see her love for them shining in her eyes.

"So why don't you have the Beantown accent?" I asked, noting she had a really sweet voice—one I wouldn't mind hearing every day. _Okay Joe where the hell are these thoughts coming from_? _Where is your head?_ I'd felt the attraction to Kate instantly. It'd been ages since I'd even allowed my mind to entertain any thoughts of another woman. Steph was always who and what I wanted. So why was this happening to me now? I'd been around many beautiful women, and not once during the time I'd been with Steph had I even been tempted. I knew it was out of the question. My love for Stephanie was so deep that I understood her needs as much if not more than my own.

"I speak three languages fluently. It was pretty easy to drop the accent when you have to take on French, German and Russian." She wasn't egotistical about her intelligence. It was just a matter of fact.

"I bet you get a lot of out of the country assignments."

"Yes, a few. I prefer to be here. I have monthly activities scheduled with my nieces and nephews that I hate missing."

The waitress brought our order and mixed up which plate went where. "Uh…I think this one's yours. We did the Meatball Sub/Pasta Alfredo shuffle and managed to make her pasta slide to the edge of her plate where it would have taken a nosedive off the table. I helped her make a quick retrieval of it, and before I knew it, we were relaxed and laughing over our joint clumsy attempts to save it.

"So is your family into politics like the Kennedy's too?" I asked her, biting into my sandwich.

"No, it's funny. Almost everyone is either in some form of medicine or law enforcement except my older brother who is a plumber, or as he prefers to call it—a toilet doctor." She chuckled as she tried to spin her pasta around her fork only to watch it slide right back off.

My eyes met hers, and I smiled. She had a sense of poise about her and a confidence that I couldn't help but admire.

"I'm full Italian, and I have to tell you tempers flared in our family. How do a bunch of redheads manage to get along? You can't be as loud as my family." I shook my head knowing it would be next to impossible.

"Oh, I bet we are! It's a passel of loud mouths, and all fiery tempers too. It's a requisite with the red hair. We love one another a lot, and mostly we get along. But you'd never know it at one of our big family gatherings. And holidays! You'd think you were in a war zone until the food is served. Then it gets very quiet, because my family worships good food."

"That sounds like my _Italian, _Catholic family which is a hodgepodge of characters you couldn't make up if you tried. They're in a category all their own."

"So why hasn't a sweet guy like you ever gotten married?" she asked me curiously, holding her hands around her wine glass.

I looked down at my bare left ring finger. I wondered how she knew I'd NEVER married. Maybe the Captain mentioned it. Leave it to the guys to try to match me up with someone already. Was that what this lunch was about? "It's not an easy life for a cop's wife." _Sweet? I don't think any one had ever called me sweet._

"No, I guess not, but going though life alone isn't easy either." Kate looked deeply into my eyes. "I got married way too young once—a long time ago. I'm not sure I'd ever do it again," she confessed.

"You sound like someone else I know," I told her desolately.

"I do? Who?" She waited for my answer.

"It's not important," I shrugged off the question. I wasn't ready to talk about Stephanie with anyone. If I started to talk about it with Kate, I had a feeling I'd say way too much and spill my guts for hours. She was one of those people you couldn't help but like. Her fresh-faced, yet sexy, girl-next-door good looks were so appealing and her mannerisms were engaging. I had a strange feeling if I'd never met Steph, Kate and I could have had a relationship. _God! Where did that come from?_ How could I possibly know that after meeting her less than two hours ago?

I shook myself inwardly. Why the hell was I even entertaining these kinds of thoughts?

"So Joe, what got you interested in law enforcement?"

"I went into the Navy right out of high school. The men in my family are not good _"family"_ men for the most part, so I wanted to change the image a bit. I figured without the college education, and with my military training, becoming a cop would be the logical direction to go. So here I am fifteen years later, chasing the bad guys and hitting my head against the wall every damned day because it's all such a convoluted, twisted mess." I looked down at my half-empty plate trying to hide the disillusionment I still felt profoundly.

"It does get mighty old sometimes, doesn't it?" Kate commiserated. "It seems we get them in jail, and they get off on some technicality. Then there are the ones that actually go to prison. Some of those who you thought might reform become even worse criminals in prison! You find out there is as much if not MORE corruption in the prison system as there is on the streets. I know it's a hard pill to swallow when you feel like you're not getting anywhere. You just wish you could take all the freakin' murderers and put them on a deserted island so they could go to town killing one another just to stop it _all_!" She finished with a bit of her Irish temper sneaking past her. "Sorry, the minute I get going on that subject it's impossible for me to stop." She smiled, wrinkling her freckled nose. "You just met me, but you'll see very soon that I should censor my mouth sometimes."

"Well I couldn't have put it any better." I assured her, signaling the waitress to bring another round of drinks. I was actually glad I had gotten a chance to get to know Kate. Any resistance I had felt earlier was long gone. "You're kind of cute when the Irish comes out," I teased.

"Well it gets pretty ugly sometimes when I get really riled up," she smiled warningly.

"I agree with what you said. Really you're right! What is allowed in the prison system is criminal!" I smiled sheepishly at the not so funny pun. "I think there is more crime originating in those walls sometimes than out in the street. The fact that they can smuggle in cell phones to continue their life of crime is bad enough. Add that to unlimited access to their personal bank funds, and you might as well throw in the towel. It's ridiculous! Sometimes I think the rights of imprisoned men and women far exceed the rights of the law-abiding citizens of our country. Who knew we'd have to go into the prisons to chase down MORE crime?"

She swallowed down a big sip of red wine. "I know—it's good they trained the police dogs to find the smuggled cell phones, but how do you keep up with all that corruption? The fact the cell phones signals are not allowed to be scrambled because of FCC regulations makes it nearly impossible to control it on a daily basis. I mean—there are gangs forming, hits ordered, money, laundering, gambling, drugs trafficking. Please—don't even get me started on the intimidation of other prisoners and the correction officers. The poor guys who are just trying to do their job are being blackmailed to participate because their loved ones are being threatened daily. Prison employees do most of the smuggling of the drugs and cell phones and God knows what else! Where does it end?" She bit her lip in frustration.

I shook my head. We ended the conversation by sharing a reciprocal sad smile. We understood one another pretty well. It took someone who did our jobs on a daily basis to really comprehend the hopelessly gargantuan task facing all of law enforcement.

I wanted to lighten things up because she was here to help us, and whatever she was going to do, I knew it sorely was needed. I fully appreciated anyone who was willing to assist us in trying to fix something that was pretty much as hopeless as a sinking ship.

"Do you like dessert?" I asked her, somehow already knowing the answer.

"Does a monkey like bananas?" Kate laughed. Her laughter was infectious—her easy manner radiated charm. I could see she didn't even know how attractive she was, and that made her even more attractive.

"Chocolate?" I asked indulgently.

"Every chance I get!" She reminded me of a little girl who'd been given free, unlimited access to a candy store.

I ordered two pieces of the house desert "Decadent Chocolate Cake" and two coffees with cream.

Glancing toward the payment counter, I saw Val Kloughn staring at me as though I had ten horns on my head. Oh boy. Just what I needed! I was forbidden to tell anyone I was with a colleague, and if I lied and told her I knew Kate when I was in the Navy, she'd suspect she was an old girlfriend.

There was no possible explanation that would take the look off Val's face. If I ignored the daggers coming my way, Steph would hear all about my "lunch date." I had no desire to cause Steph one moment of mistrust or pain. On the other hand, I was doing my job.

Let Val mouth off and gossip all she wanted. I knew I had nothing to be guilty about, and if Steph heard otherwise—well what was I supposed to do? Our relationship was in limbo or purgatory, depending on the day of the week. I raised my eyebrows at Val who was still gawking. I smiled a not- so- thrilled- to- see-her smile and went on with my conversation.

"How did the FBI get lucky enough to get you Kate?"

"I went to college to study law. I was planning to be a defense attorney. I studied hard, and was about to choose a firm to join when I was approached by one of my professors. He had a connection to the FBI, and he thought with my linguistic skills and my propensity for investigating every detail and every clue we had in the mock trials at school that I might be a good candidate. Needless to say, I never tried a real case, and here I am."

The chocolate cake arrived with the coffee, and I guessed the idea of me sharing dessert with another woman was even more abhorrent to Val than our sharing lunch. The Plum family looked at dessert as some sacred ceremony that was reserved only for them. She gave me another dirty look and quickly spun around heading for the door.

"Who was that?" Kate was observant I'd give her that.

"Are you sure you want to know?" My voice held a hint of warning.

"An old girlfriend?" She tilted her head. "A current girlfriend?" she guessed.

"She's the _sister_ of an ex-girlfriend—that _is_ a fairly _new_ ex-girlfriend," I modified, no doubt making it less clear. Hell, I felt confused just saying it.

"Uh oh." Katie uttered understandingly.

"Well don't worry about it. It's just a matter of time anyway. In the Burg, gossip travels faster than the speed of sound or light. Trust me, the news that Joe Morelli actually had lunch out today with a woman will be the headlines." I looked at my watch. "By two o'clock—twenty minutes from now—it will be spread like the plague that you and I were all over each other in a bar; I had my hand up your skirt; and we were kissing and carrying on so much we should have gotten a room. And by the time it ends, they'll say I got down on one knee and put an engagement ring on your finger."

Kate laughed. "That bad?"

"Trust me—worse," I chuckled. It felt good to have a reason to laugh. Stephanie always had me laughing with so little effort. She was such good medicine whenever I needed a break from the repetitive routine that had become my life.

"You're thinking about her."

"Who?"

"Your ex—whoever she is. The way your eyes looked just now I could tell you're really missing her."

I _knew_ there was wisdom in those eyes. "Yeah, I'm hopelessly transparent when it comes to Stephanie."

"Stephanie. Pretty name."

"_Beautiful_ girl—woman," I corrected. "We've known one another since we were little kids, so sometimes I forget we're all grown up."

"What happened? I mean if you don't want to tell me, it's okay. I don't want pry," she offered considerately.

"You're not. I just really haven't talked about it much. I guess the shortest version would be she was married once. He cheated; she was devastated. I'm pretty sure she'll never be ready to marry again, and I _am_. I've put it off so long because of the job, but after she came back into my life about four years ago, I knew she was the only _one_ I wanted to marry. She doesn't want children—I do." My eyes looked up sadly. "Same ole sad sack story I'm sure you've heard before."

"I have," Katie murmured lightly. "I know it better than anyone. My marriage crumbled because he wanted kids, and I wanted to wait for a few years. I thought it was so important to get my career under way, and kids would come later. And here I am." She opened her hands in a look-at-me motion. "Still single and childless—eight years later."

I smiled at her. I really liked this woman. She was so open and honest and interested in a genuinely kind way.

"It's a tangled web we weave." I don't know why I said my next words. I just felt like Katie wouldn't judge Stephanie or me. I needed to talk to someone. I hadn't spoken to anyone else about my feelings. "There's just one other thing that threw a big monkey wrench into my relationship with Stephanie."

Kate was waiting attentively for my revelation.

"I wasn't the only man in her life." It felt humiliating to say it out loud. My pride had taken such a blow. Looking at Kate, I knew she'd somehow understand. As I said it a huge bolder fell off my back.

"Oh, _Joe_, I'm _sorry._"

"It was tough. It wasn't a surprise. I'd known it for ages, but she was never honest with me about it, and I couldn't handle it anymore. She's such a unique, sweet, lovable woman, but she lied and lied. I guess I thought eventually she'd tell me, or she'd dump me, or choose him, but no—she never did anything of the sort. She just kept up the deceit until I couldn't live with it any longer."

"You broke it off," she surmised.

"Yeah, it was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life." I could feel my emotion again, something I had been trying hard to ignore. My eyes usually tried to veil the pain, but with Kate it felt right not to try to hide it.

"I'm sorry." Katie took a sip of coffee resting her fork on the edge of the empty dessert plate. I had hardly touched mine. "I can only imagine how difficult that would be."

"Thanks. I'm working really hard and trying to get my life back, but sometimes I just want to call her and see if we have anything left. She's been a part of me since I was a little kid."

"This is _so_ sad." Her eyes were filled with compassion.

"Well, we all have our stories, and most of them are sad," I said drearily, and then joked, "Good thing this wasn't a date. Jeez Joe—why don't you depress the girl and make her cry for you already?"

"I'm not depressed; I'm sad for you. I can see how much you still love her. Your eyes softened the moment you uttered her name."

"I'm hopeless," I confessed disparagingly.

"So what do you say we pop this joint and go get a real drink!" Kate offered, grabbing the check out of my hand.

"NO! I was treating you to lunch."

"Don't worry, Joe. You'll have a chance to pay next time," she promised.

I wondered why the words "next time" warmed my heart and made me feel hopeful.

**Steph's POV**

I had a fairly easy morning with the skips I'd apprehended. I'd just dropped off two in a row and had my receipts in hand for Connie. Deciding I had time for a late lunch, since it was two-twenty, I headed to my mom's house, seeing as she always had some leftovers. What better place to be than my parents? Something had shifted in our relationship, and I found myself dreading the weekly dinners less and actually looking forward to being in their company for a few hours at a time. It surprised me—pleasantly.

I walked in to find my Mom, Val and Grandma Mazur buzzing about the latest Burg gossip. I heard the words before it actually registered whom they were yapping about. Val looked up at me guiltily and with pity in her eyes. My mom was ironing furiously, and she looked like she was going to head for the tippling cupboard at any minute. Grandma Mazur walked right over to me patting my shoulder. "So sorry about what happened with Joe today, Stephanie."

"What?" My heart skipped a beat and turned into dread.

"I saw him, Steph—at Pinos," Val blurted out. Her face looked like she had just ingested something bitter.

"Well, he eats there all the time, Val. That's not a big surprise. You scared me half to death. Thanks a lot!"

"You have to tell her!" my mom interjected.

"Steph, _he _was there—sitting in _YOUR_ booth with another woman," Val's words came out in a rush. It felt like my life had instantly exploded.

It was my turn for the "O" to drop. My mouth went there while my eyes stayed blank. I couldn't be hearing her correctly. "Joe was at Pinos' eating in our booth with someone else?" I asked sitting hard on the kitchen chair my mom pushed toward me.

"I'm afraid so, Steph. She was pretty—but not as pretty as you," my loyal sister assured me.

"But is it someone we know?" I asked in a perplexed tone. Was it Teri or Joyce? Joe always threatened me with Joyce just to irk me. He'd laugh and I'd throw something at him, then he'd tell me Joyce made him want to run like the wind in the other direction. And I'd forgive him, and we'd kiss, and he'd whisper that I was the only woman he needed. Why hadn't I ever believed him?

"I've never seen her before," Val informed me.

"What did she look like?"

"Well, she's a redhead, and she's pretty well endowed from what I could tell. I was a little ways away," Val said vaguely.

"Was she sitting on the same side of the booth?" I'd know for sure something was going on if that were the case.

"No, she was on the opposite side, but they were eating _chocolate cake_," Val said it as if he had sex with her right under the table.

"Chocolate cake? Okay, so she likes sugar. Who doesn't?" I was in shock. My mind was trying to process it—Joe and some other woman. My God, not just an ugly, old, run of the mill woman, but a pretty woman— maybe even a beautiful woman. _My God!_

"Did you hear any of the conversation? She could be anybody—family or uh…" I was at a loss. _Who the hell was she?_

"No, I didn't hear anything. But it was just a feeling I got. Joe saw me, and he didn't look happy about it. I bet he knew I'd tell you," Val's conspiratorial voice didn't help my nerves one bit.

"Yeah, well that's not too hard to guess, Val. If you hadn't already, I'm sure that phone over there _will_ within a few minutes. As if on cue, the damned thing started ringing. My mother rushed over to answer it, and—sure enough—the Juicy "Joe gossip" was making the rounds. I'd totally lost my appetite. Maybe it was just an innocent meeting. Maybe all the tables were full, so he had no choice but to share his. Sometimes that happened right? She could be a relative or—what? I had no fricken' idea who she could be, and it drove me crazy just thinking about it.

I wanted to cry, and being there with my family where there was not an inch of privacy in the entire house made me nuts. I had to get the hell out of there and be alone. Anywhere else—just so I was alone.

My mom hung up the phone and walked back over to the table.

"Well, it's just as we thought. Margaret Gooley's daughter said she saw Joe and that redhead kissing in YOUR booth at Pino's. She said her hand was moving up his leg, and he was laughing, and she was looking at him like he was a Prince or something. And then Rita Geary, Joe's neighbor, told Margaret she was pretty sure the redhead was living at Joe's house because she saw the curtains move in his bedroom window. Oh I'm so sorry, Steph!"

"Stephanie, remember this is the Burg. Ninety percent or more of what people say is misinterpreted and exaggerated," my dad's voice sounded behind me. I knew he was trying to reassure me. I wondered what made him come into the kitchen for this rare appearance. "I heard from one of my buddies at the lodge that Joe was in a bar on Broad Street with a woman," my dad explained softly while patting my back comfortingly.

I just stood there letting the shock of it all sink in. It may not all be true, but something was happening, or the Burg wouldn't have anything to gossip about. So that was the part that made my stomach bunch up, and my chest hurt.

"I have to go!" I made a quick excuse and an equally hasty exit. _My God, he'd found someone else?_ All the dreams and fantasies I'd had of us getting back together were nothing but illusions?

I pulled away from the curb in Big Blue not knowing where to go. I wanted to go straight to Joe. I wanted to find out for myself if he was really seeing another woman. But she wasn't the "other" woman, because he and I were not together. I had NO right to feel betrayed. I had no right to feel this hot/cold anger rushing through my veins. I drove with only one thing in mind. I needed it more now than ever before.

Truth.

I passed by his house. His SUV wasn't parked in front. I found myself on Broad Street looking for his vehicle but found no sign of him anywhere. Maybe by now they were back at his house or in a hotel. I went by two or three hotels and then back by his house again. No sign of him.

I kept driving, and eventually I found myself at the park. Getting out of the car, I plowed my way through the snow. I sat down hard on the bench Joe and I had shared hundreds of times—whether it had been taking a break from walking Bob or grabbing an ice cream cone in the summer. We'd laugh and point when one of our cones would start to drip. Like two little kids we'd race to see who could finish their cone first. We'd end up getting headaches from eating the cold confections too fast. Then we'd argue over whom had the biggest brain freeze. I'd always had so much fun with Joe. I realized now how alive I'd felt every moment I spent in his presence.

Now it was over. Joe had moved on without ever looking back. I swallowed back the pain in my throat. I wanted to cry, but the strangling feeling in my throat cut off any tears. I folded my arms and rocked myself back and forth on the bench trying to get enough breath. It felt like I was hyperventilating, and that I might pass out. The cold winter air numbed my hands and feet matching the lack of feeling in my heart.

I had blown it. All the second chances I'd dreamed of were over. He'd met someone new—someone beautiful who would know as soon as she met him that he was something special. She wouldn't have my hang-ups and my issues. He'd be treated like the amazing man he was. The way he'd always deserved.

I wondered how it would have felt to fall in love and know without a shadow of a doubt he was the right man. How lovely it would have been not to waste all the precious time I had and to just be happy. Tears were coming now, falling and freezing to my cheeks. It was only a few weeks until Christmas, and today it felt like I'd already gotten a big lump of coal in my stocking. It's exactly what I deserved. After all, I'd had the best man in the world, and I'd thrown him away like a useless toy.

I sat there until it was almost dark. I didn't know if I wasn't moving because I was getting so cold or because I felt paralyzed by the idea I would have to make a new life without Joe.

I was shivering like crazy and knew I needed to get home. I finally stood up and just then a big ball of orange fur came barreling into me. Bob nearly knocked me back down to the bench. My heart jumped to the sky, and then nosedived to the ground. I couldn't face _him_ right now. What if she was with him? I couldn't handle it. What in the hell would I say? _"Nice to see you with the love of my life. Hope you're having a wonderful time. So are you going home to screw each other?"_ I hadn't seen him in months. I'd had nothing but fantasies of what our first reunion would be like, thinking he'd missed me as much as I'd missed him. I knew now it had all been a dream—my dream. And I was no longer his dream. I absently petted Bob and murmured to him how much I missed him, nearly choking as I said the words meant for Joe.

Any second I'd see him, and I prayed he'd be alone. Bob was prone to running about a hundred feet ahead whenever we went out for a walk. His master wasn't far away. Kneeling in the snow, I buried my face in Bob's luxurious coat, bracing myself for the encounter. I turned my head, sensing him before I even saw him. There they were—the familiar black leather boots. My eyes rose to see his legs clothed in blue jeans, and then they rose further to see the black leather bomber jacket. One more look up led me right to those eyes I'd missed like crazy. There he was at last, just as gorgeous as I remembered him— MORE gorgeous!

"Hi, Steph. What are you doing out here?" His voice was soft, and his eyes were warm.

I stood slowly, my whole body shaking. I wasn't sure if it was from the cold or the earth shattering moment I was having finally being able to see Joe in the flesh.

"I just…how are you J-J-Joe?" My teeth were chattering, and I felt like I was meeting him for the first time. The butterflies dancing in my stomach felt gigantic and knocked my insides around as if they were flapping their wings in a jar.

"I'm good—and you?" He smiled. _God how I missed his smile!_

"I'm a little c-c-c...cold." I couldn't hide the shivering that had taken over my body. Hugging my body with my arms, I realized I'd stayed outside way too long.

"A little cold? Where the hell's your coat? You're not wearing gloves or boots! My God you're trembling! How long have you been out here?" his voice was filled with concern.

"I don't know." I'd forgotten to grab my coat at my parents. Earlier in the day it was brisk—not that freezing cold evening temperature that had hit right after sundown.

"Steph, have you been crying?" he asked, pulling his hands out of his pockets. His cold fingers reached out to touch my frozen, tear-streaked face.

I'd learned my lesson to never lie to him again.

"I just…h-h-heard some..th-thing today about you."

"We have to get you inside. You're coming home with me. You gotta get warmed up." He swooped me up into his arms and carried me to the Buick.

Before I even knew what was happening, I was sitting in the passenger seat of Big Blue. Bob was ensconced in the back seat, and Morrelli was in the driver's seat taking us to his house.

"I c-c-can't go to your…h-hou..house," I stammered, feeling the full force of imminent frost bite. What if she was there? Would that be awkward or what? I could hear myself greeting her, "_Hello, nice to meet you. If you don't get the hell away from Joe, I'm going to claw your eyes out and pull every last red hair from your head."_

"Why not? You practically lived there. I need to get you warm, and it's the closest place. Please, for once in your life just listen to me, and let me take care of you!"

I could hear the anxiety mixed with frustration.

"It's my house or the hospital!" he threatened, knowing full well I would choose his house over seeing a doctor any day.

"Ok-k-kay," I stuttered.

We drove the rest of the way in silence. He parked in front of the house and helped me out of the car and into the house as quickly as he could.

"Get those wet shoes off," he ordered me gently. He walked over to the thermostat on the wall and cranked up his furnace, then ran back outside to get Bob out of the car.

I kicked off my shoes and stood there in a shocked, frozen position. What if _she _stayed behind? What if she was waiting for Joe to come back? Would she walk down the stairs and greet me politely? Would she offer me something to drink? Would Joe come in and kiss her and then introduce us? No noises sounded from upstairs. It was dead quiet, until the front door opened and Joe came back inside.

Bob bounded in and jumped up—so happy to have me there. He settled his big, raggedy body right on top of my frigid feet almost as if he sensed I needed his warmth.

Morelli poured two glasses of whiskey. Setting the bottle down, he came over and set the two glasses down on the coffee table. Grabbing a blanket from the couch, he wrapped it around my shuddering body. He guided me over the couch and pushed me down gently.

"I'll be right back." He headed upstairs. I could hear him rummaging through the linen closet and shortly thereafter, he returned with two more blankets. He tucked one in around the front of my body and the other one he wrapped tightly around my legs and feet.

Grabbing one of the glasses of amber liquid from the coffee table, he helped me take a few sips. My hands were shaking too much to take the glass from him. He sat down next to me on the couch, offering me a few more sips. I relished the hot, burning sensations as they filled my throat. At least I could feel again.

"I'm sorry I interrupted you earlier, but you couldn't stay out there another minute. What on earth made you sit out there so long?" Joe's tone was solicitous and caring as always. It broke my heart to think some other woman was going to be lucky enough to hear it every day.

"I just—I was upset, and I needed a place to think only it's hard because no matter where I go, the only thing I see is you." I was being honest even if it was too late. Joe deserved to have the truth finally.

Joe's eyes flickered, and I could feel his hesitation. "You heard about me being at Pino's today from Val."

I nodded because I was afraid if I opened my mouth, I would start to cry.

"I'm sorry that happened, Steph—really I am. I was just having lunch. It wasn't planned. She's just an acquaintance—that's all." He looked down as soon as he said it.

"An old girlfriend?" I asked, wondering again how long they'd known each other.

"No." He shook his head as his lips denied my fears. I could see he was holding something back. I could always tell when Joe wasn't telling me everything.

"What aren't you telling me?" My eyes stayed glued to his. Why had I ever allowed myself to stop looking into them? They were home to me, and looking into them was a soul connection.

"I wish Val hadn't said anything," he skirted the question.

"I know it's none of my business. It just felt funny, hearing it." Funny was the last word I should have used.

Joe shook his head. His hand reached out to push back a curl from my face, and he looked into my eyes with a familiarly sweet expression. "You're such a Cupcake. She's no one."

I gulped back a sob. Hearing the familiar endearment escape his lips wrenched my heart. I thought I might never hear it again.

"She's just someone I met. It was nothing. We had lunch—we talked. That's all that happened." He looked down at the glass in his hand. I knew then without a doubt he wasn't telling me what I needed to know.

"Joe, what is it you're not saying? When did you meet her?"

"Stephanie, trust me—it's not important."

"Yes it is. Tell me the truth, Joe. You've been so honest about everything. Don't hold back now."

He got up, putting distance between us, and paced a little. He turned away from me for a few seconds, and then walked over and sat down next to me again.

"_I like her_," he confessed. His voice was nearly a whisper.

My heart did a free fall down an elevator shaft. _He liked her_? He must have known her for a long time or maybe he'd just met her, and it was love at first sight.

"You're—attracted to her?"

"I'd be lying to you if I said no," he clarified it for me.

"Okay." What else could I say? I sat there in shocked silence. White heat was running through my veins, yet I still felt ice cold.

"Steph, it's not like I planned it. And I don't even know what it means! I haven't gotten over you—I haven't. It's just we've been apart for _three months._"

"That was your choice—not mine!" I felt betrayed. I knew he wasn't trying to hurt me on purpose, but this was an ass-kicking way to see him again after three excruciatingly, long months.

"Steph, we had issues."

"You mean _I_ had issues!"

"No, I mean _we._ You didn't want to get married—I did. You didn't want to have children—I did. You wanted another man on the side. I couldn't live with that. Those are issues!" He started with the Italian hand motions.

"My, haven't we come far." I untwisted myself from all the blankets and got to my feet. I was livid. How dare he move on without giving me one more chance! I loved him. I was the one he was supposed to be with— NOT her! Whoever the hell she was!

"What if I don't want _him_ anymore!" I shouted at Joe. What in the hell do I have to do to prove it? I haven't seen him in months! And you'll never forgive me for it, will you? You'll bring it up and run it into the ground till the end of time! Stephanie Plum was a lying, cheating bitch who did you wrong and never treated you the way you deserved." I wasn't feeling cold anymore. I felt angry, hurt, wounded and tired. Oh God, I was just so damned tired.

"Why the hell did you ever _need him _in the first place? YOU HAD ME! Why in the fuck wasn't I enough! What did I do to deserve that kind of treatment! My God, is my being Joe Morelli a black mark on your check list that can never be expunged? How _long_ do I have to go through proving myself to you before you realize I am NOT the eighteen-year-old son of a bitch that hurt you! I'm Joe Morelli—the man who loves you with every breath! Everything I've done—all the years we were together—was for YOU!"

"That's not fair."

"NOT FAIR? Don't you tell me what's fair! When was the last time you said anything in praise of me to my face! I mean really, Stephanie, when? Do you even remember, because I don't! Today a woman I barely know said nice things to me. She wasn't afraid to compliment me. Do you know how I felt when I realized how _long_ it had been since I'd heard that from someone I loved—from you? She wasn't looking for my faults and painting me into a corner that I could never get out of because of my past mistakes. Do you have any idea how hard it's been to be a Morelli my whole life and how damned hard I've worked to take that stigma off my back? The woman I love most in this world can't even let me be who I am without judging me on who I used to be! You can't can you?" Joe's eyes were tortured and exhausted, and suddenly all the fight went out of me.

"Joe, you're right." Those three words took all the fight out of him too. If only I'd had the wisdom to tell him that a long time ago.

He shook his head, sighing heavily. "I'm sorry. The last thing I want to do is fight. God knows we've done enough of that!"

"You deserved so much better from me. That is the truth. I've thought about everything—I _promise _you I have. And if I never told you how amazed I was by you every day and how much I loved you and admired you all those years, then it's because I was being a selfish, spoiled brat."

"Steph." He held up his hand to stop me.

"No, Joe, I was. You were _everything _to me. And I blew it. I got scared and ran away. And Ranger was just _there_. I loved you—I still do. I always have. I just need a chance to prove it to you. I've been trying to give you the time and space you asked of me. But I hate it. It feels like all we're doing is growing farther and farther apart."

"I guess that's true," he agreed, running his hands through his hair.

"I don't know what more I can say to you. I just want you to give me ONE more chance. But now you're attracted to someone new—or old—or I don't know what!"

"I think it just brought home to me how much was missing in our relationship. I only wanted to make you happy, Steph. I sacrificed most of my needs to take care of yours, and in doing so I think I caused some of the problems. I should have told you sooner how much I needed you to appreciate me."

"I do! Joe, I know how selfish I was. I see it now so clearly."

"But it doesn't change everything else. We're still on two different planets. You don't want the same things I do."

"What if I do?" I asked him, my eyes beseeching him to listen to me.

"I don't know." He shook his head and backed up a few steps.

"You want someone new?" I asked the question even as my eyes filled with tears.

"I don't know what I want anymore. I've been trying to work through everything, and just when I think I'm getting there—_more_ shit rises to the top. I thought when we finally saw one another again it would be so different than this."

"Tell me about it!" I agreed.

"What's wrong with us? I know we love each other. We just can't ever get it right or be on the same page at the same time. Talk about star-crossed." His eyes reflected my confusion.

"I guess you need to decide what it is you want, Joe."

"You know what you want, Stephanie?" He asks doubtfully.

"Yes."

"Tell me," his voice was hoarse—his eyes veiled.

"No. Not until you tell me if you've decided to move on—even if I don't have a right to know."

"You have a right to know the truth. I'm not out to hurt you, Steph. If I'd moved on, I would have told you _first_."

I burst into tears. "You promise. I don't ever want to hear it from anyone but YOU, Joe. It's still really hard."

He walked over to me and took me in his arms. I clung to him as if he was a life preserver.

"Can we start over—from when we first saw one another in the park—without me finding you freezing to death?" he asked, whispering into my hair.

We stepped back from one another. Our eyes met and, in that moment, the tension suddenly melted away.

"Hi Steph—it's really nice to see you again. I've missed you." His eyes shimmered with affection. He held out his hand, and I took it in mine.

"Hi Joe. I can't believe you're here. I've missed you too." I couldn't take my eyes from his.

"God, you're still the most beautiful woman I've ever known." My lips quivered hearing his words.

"I want you so damned much. Why is this separation between us still happening?" I asked him, beseeching him to put me out of my misery.

"I don't know," he admitted sadly.

"Why can't you let yourself fall in love with me again?"

"I've _never_ fallen _OUT _of love with you, Stephanie," he confided in me quietly.

"I don't understand this! I want you back! I'd do anything to have you in my life again!"

"I feel the same way," he answered, only making me more confused. "I'm just not sure the timing—"

"You want to explore your feelings for HER!" I accused him angrily. _So much for starting over_.

"I just don't want us to get back together and start making the same damn mistakes. It's already happening. Why?" His face was filled with bewilderment.

"I think you want other options. You're not open to _us,_ because _she's_ on your mind too."

"Yeah, I guess you'd understand that better than anyone!" he snapped bitterly.

"FINE! Joe, you want to throw Ranger back in my face every chance you get? Well, go ahead! You want someone new? God forbid I stand in your way! You just go for it, and I hope you enjoy the thrill of your revenge!"

"I know you don't mean that, and I'm sorry I made that remark," he apologized profusely with his eyes. "You see how hard this is to get back what we had?"

"It shouldn't have to be. I am NOT in love with Ranger, and I never was!"

"You slept with him over and over again! I don't believe that you never had feelings for him. You would never have done that. I know you, and that's not the kind of woman you are. If you were being honest, you'd admit it—you had feelings for him."

"Maybe I did. I only know he is not the man I've been in love with my entire life! Even my father said you and I are destined to be together!"

"Frank?" Joe's quizzical expression almost made me smile.

"Yeah. He told me you and I had made a commitment to one another a long time ago, and there isn't anything the two of us wouldn't do for one another, which is true. He said as much as we like to deny it, we are—were already in a committed relationship because of how deeply we love each other."

Joe nodded. "Frank's full of surprises."

"Yes, he is. Joe, I don't want RANGER! I am NOT in love with him. I never was! I want YOU! I want to be WITH YOU!"

"I want it too, Stephanie—I do." I could see the rejection in his eyes even before he opened his mouth.

"Tell me why!" Tears were pouring down my face again, and cold shivers were flooding my body.

"I'm not ready. I thought the moment I saw you again, I'd be so happy and that all the negative stuff would be gone. I've been working on it. I really have, but it's _not _gone. My love for you is here to stay—I know that. I can't go back to the kind of relationship we've always had. You're right; I _do_ want something new."

A deep, throaty sob escaped. "I'm leaving."

He caught my arm as I turned to go and gently spun me back to face him. "I WANT SOMETHING NEW—WITH YOU! I want it to be like it's never been before! I want us to know it down to our bones that we're _ready_ and we're going to make some kind of lasting commitment to each other. I want it to be with NO more looking back for either of us! I want you to see me as I am _now_. And I want to see you as if we're starting from that moment on—without any more of these ugly accusations and recriminations. And I'm telling you when that moment arrives NOTHING will ever come between us again. Let any man or woman try!" His eyes were filled with fiery resolve.

I nodded my agreement. There was no way in hell I'd ever allow anything or anyone to separate us again.

"Are you warm enough, or do you need me to turn the heat up more?"

"No, I feel better." He took my hand in his and ran his other hand along my cheek to make sure my body temperature was rising.

"What were you thinking going out with so little on, in December?"

"I wasn't thinking of anything but you." I admitted quietly. I wanted to cry again just thinking about the reason why. He'd found another woman attractive enough for him to admit it to me he liked her. This was not the reunion I'd wanted for us at all. What if she was perfect for him? What if she was the woman he needed?

His eyes had softened into molten chocolate when he heard my words. He had such a beautiful loving heart. He deserved someone with an equally beautiful heart. After the way I'd treated him I had to admit to myself that maybe that someone, wasn't me.

"Joe, if you want to see _her_ again to be sure about us, I have no right to ask you not to."

"You'd be okay with me seeing her again?" His eyes looked doubtful.

"No. But if she's someone who could make you happy—" my voice broke. _Being magnanimous was fucking hard._

He looked down quickly, then up straight into my eyes. "No, I wouldn't do that to you. I'm not looking for _anyone_ else. I want us to be sure—both of us. If we get back together, we're _never_ separating again. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

I swallowed back more tears. "I do. I want that day to come more than you know."

"Okay—then it's not a question of _if—_more like a question of _when_." We shared an intimate look filled with the promise of when.

He smiled at me affectionately. "Don't you ever scare me like that again!"

"I'm sorry. I was upset and wasn't thinking. I ran out of my parent's house, and I left everything but the car keys."

"I'm going to go start your car and get it all warmed up for you. And you're going to take one of my police jackets and some gloves and a scarf. If I had boots to fit you, I'd make you take those too."

"I smiled, because he was being so incredibly good to me. "You're the sweetest man I've ever known."

His eyes blinked in quick succession. I could tell he was surprised by my words of affection. How sad. They should've been unlimited. He should have had them long ago.

"You're the sweetest woman I've ever known," he answered sincerely. His eyes glistened into mine. "Stephanie, if you ever need _anything_, I'm only a phone call away. Your Dad was right—there is _nothing_ I wouldn't do for you. Just call me, Cupcake, and I'll be there."

"I want to be there for you too, Joe."

"You will be." His assuring smile made me trust his words.

"You promise me that giving you more time doesn't mean I'm going to lose you forever?"

"I promise!" His husky voice filled my heart with hope.

"Okay."

This time my heart jumped for joy as he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. His lips searched for mine playfully for a few seconds, and then when at last they touched mine, it was like spontaneous combustion. The kiss left us panting for breath.

The cold I'd felt earlier was long gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Not my characters. No profit. **

**Carol thanks so much for your wise take on this chapter. **

**I really needed your perspective. Thanks also for the wonderful beta work. Most of all I am so grateful for your friendship.**

**I want to thank everyone who has reviewed this story. And PL I wish I could thank you personally for all the support and kind things you write. **

**Chapter 14 **

**Steph's POV**

I sat in my car outside the temporary bonds office knowing somehow it wasn't going to be a normal day. I was growing to like normal more than I thought was possible. I couldn't imagine why I'd accepted all the crazy lunatic days of the past.

All of the self-defense classes I'd attended had paid off and so had the training with Eddie at the police academy. I was seeing a lot less of the guys from the precinct whenever I went after skips with Lula. She was even beginning to listen to me when I passed on some of my training.

It had been about three weeks since my "when" encounter with Joe, and since that time I hadn't see him—not once. I wasn't trying not to; I just didn't.

I'd heard through the grapevine people were wondering what happened with him and the gorgeous redhead. They surmised it hadn't worked out, and she'd hi-tailed it out of town—another broken hearted woman left in the trail of Joe Morelli. Of course they blamed me for it, because they were sure Joe would never completely get over me. I could live happily with that idea, but the shaking heads and pitying expressions that always accompanied the sentiment rankled a bit.

I made my way into the office. It was possibly more depressing and darker than the original office. Files were stacked everywhere, and there was only one chair to sit on—hard plastic and mustard yellow.

"Hey Steph, have I got a skip for you. He's handsome as all get out!" Connie informed me. "I couldn't stop looking at his face! But the eyes are a little scary."

I took the file and opened it up. Beau Peters. My eyes shot her a look, and then I gazed back at the picture in the file again. Drop dead hot! He looked like he came straight out of GQ magazine only better. I loved Joe with my whole heart and soul, but this guy was Matt Bomer handsome. Mesmerizing blue eyes, dark black hair, and—oh my God—his chiseled features looked like Michael Angelo himself had carved him.

"He's a criminal?" That seemed criminal. What a waste! The eyes were a little menacing, but who looked good in a mug shot? This guy did! As good as anyone I'd ever seen!

"I know. What a shame!" Maybe he could be rehabilitated. I sure wouldn't mind working on it with him," Connie sighed, filing her nails while she chewed hard on her gum.

There were no priors in the file, and the only other information for him was his current address in a high-rise apartment in the industrial section of downtown Trenton. That was weird because most of the losers we went after lived in down trodden neighborhoods and tenement buildings.

"No priors and just this theft arrest that came out of the blue?"

"Well that's the funny part. They caught him in a moving van, and there was only one stereo unit worth about eight thousand dollars in the back. That's it. He's out on fifty thousand dollars bail. He failed to appear, and now he's all yours!"

"Not _ALL_ hers!" I heard Lula chiming in behind me. She had just stomped through the door; her hands filled with bags of breakfast food. "Let Lula get a better look!" She set down the bags with a clunk and promptly stole the file right out of my hands. "My, oh my—what a fine piece of man that is! I call dibs on handcuffing him!"

Vinnie came out from his office and he saw us still standing around after nine in the morning, which was a sacrilege as far as Vinnie was concerned. "What the fuck! Why are you two here? Why haven't you gotten your asses out to find some FTA's? You're not going to sit around here and eat this food! He grabbed a breakfast sandwich out of the bag and stuffed his mouth full.

"That would be a little hard without a chair to sit on!" I shot back.

"That will be two dollars and fifty-five cents!" Lula held her hand out. "I ain't buying no crabby ass boss no breakfast. Maybe I would if you treated us better, but you? NO way! Pay up!"

Vinnie searched in his pocket and came up with two dollars and a dime.

"You owe Lula forty-five cents!" She turned her voluptuous body back to the food on the desk and pulled out one of everything for herself. "I guess we can eat on the way!"

I grabbed a breakfast sandwich and the coffee I knew was mine, and off we went—files in hand.

We sat outside the luxurious apartment building and finished our breakfast.

"Looks like Mr. Sexy pants is doing just fine for hisself. He must be doing a lot more than stealing a measly ole' stereo unit," Lula observed smartly.

"Yeah I think we got a live one!"

"Well that remains to be seen, and right about now, I wouldn't mind seeing it!" Lula grinned widely.

"Okay, you ready? Do you really think he would be here so out in the open after skipping bail?"

"Girlie, I'm always ready! There's only one way to find out and who knows—maybe he has a brother living with him. I wouldn't mind dipping into the gene pool if you know what I mean.'" Lula opened her door, and I double-checked to make sure I had everything I would need to apprehend the wanted fugitive.

We stood on either side of the door listening first to the sounds emitting from the apartment. The TV was on. We were on the tenth floor of the high-rise, and there was no way he could escape through a back exit. He'd have to make a dash for the elevator or the stairs. One of us would cover those while the other knocked on the door. I motioned for Lula to cover while I did the honors. She pulled her gun out of her purse and got into place out of his sight range, and I rang the buzzer. She was a little put out, hissing at me that she called first dibs, but she knew I wasn't taking any flack from her anymore. We did things my new way, and it was working well so far.

The door opened, and for a moment I lost my breath. He was even better looking in person. His dark, almost indigo blue eyes took me in, and a slow sexy smile appeared as he surveyed me. I felt as though my clothing was totally transparent, and I felt my face flush.

"Hello, pretty lady. Wow is this my lucky day or what? Whatever you all are selling, I'm ready to buy, baby!" His southern drawl was pretty odd. I didn't know a lot of southerners, but there was something weird about his good old boy routine. His fingers reached out to touch my face. I jumped back as far as I could and still block his exit.

"Oh, little filly, you don't need to be scared. Beau knows how to appreciate a beauty like you!"

"You forgot something very important this week, Beau," I informed him, trying hard not to look into his eyes. There was something in them that belied his warm voice. They were cold and calculating, and I could feel darkness in his soul.

"I did? Did we meet in a bar, and I was a little smashed? I do that sometimes—ask a girl out and forget I ever did it. Oh, no, I didn't stand you up for a date now, did I? That would be so ill mannered. Why my Mama would tan my hide!"

"Nope, no date with me. We've never met. But you missed a date all right—your court date. You need to go down to the police station to set up a new one. I'm a recovery agent."

"I'm sure I don't have a clue what you are talking about, but no matter. Beau likes you anyway, and what Beau likes Beau gets."

"Not this time, Beau!" I had my hand on the trigger of my pepper spray in one pocket of my down vest, and, in the other hand, I was ready with the taser.

This guy wasn't going anywhere with me but to jail!

Before I realized what he was doing, he grabbed at the front of my shirt and yanked me into his apartment, nearly causing me to fall to the floor. He quickly shut and locked the door with his free hand. When he pulled on me, my hand jumped out of my pocket, and the pepper spray went flying. I lost my grip on the taser as well, and it fell to the carpet. I was in big trouble.

He ripped the skip bag off my shoulder and threw it across the room. He twisted me around as he pulled off the vest and tossed it to the floor. As he did, the ripping sound of my sleeve filled the air. He was at least six four and had a good sixty pounds on me. I tried to twist out of his reach, and the buttons on my blouse went flying. _Shit!_ Lula! Where the hell are you?

He pushed my face hard up against the wall twisting both my hands in one of his behind my back. His breath was hot on my neck, and I was panting with the effort to stay calm and focused. Slowly turning me around to meet his face, his eyes blazed into mine, filled with a mixture of his lustful desire and wickedness. Both sent shivers to my soul. Oh God! Where the hell was Lula? I heard her swearing loudly outside the door!

His mouth smiled maliciously as he pushed me harder against the wall. I could feel his body smashing against mine, his desire growing as he grinded his body into me. Twisting and kicking out with my knee to no avail, I screamed and tried to maneuver my body away from his. He roughly groped my exposed breast in his hand, and his mouth crushed mine to shut me up.

He smelled and tasted of sour whiskey and smoky, pungent cigars. I wanted to vomit.

"I'm going to spend the whole day taming you, little filly," he informed me, pulling his lips away. His voice was harsh and evil. "You squirm as much as you want, because I like 'em skittish!"

His lips crushed mine again, and his tongue assaulted my mouth as his hands groped my body violently. I was gasping for air and felt lightheaded-about ready to pass out.

Suddenly a shot rang out, and the apartment door blasted open. I took advantage of the interruption and Beau's surprise to kick him in the groin. Twisting him over my knee, I flipped him to the floor. "What the hell took you so long!" I shouted at Lula. Straddling his body, he tried to buck me off while I cuffed his hands behind his back. He was screaming obscenities and threatening me sexually, using vulgar and unrepeatable words.

"I had a small problem with my gun. I forgot to load it, and the bullets were in the bottom of Lula's purse!" She explained, giving the southern offender a good kick to get him subdued. When that didn't work, she retrieved the taser I dropped earlier and gave him a shot to his ass. Finally he shut up. Watching him twitch and drool was gratifying

I wanted to call the police to take him away because the idea of spending one more moment with this sick twisted loser was abhorrent to me. I wanted a shower so badly and to wash my mouth out with a hundred bottles of Scope and brush my teeth with a gallon of toothpaste. Above all that I wanted Joe's strong, protective and loving arms around me. It would be so easy to call him and beg for him to be with me. But I knew Beau would be a dead man if Joe saw what he'd done to me. And I knew I had to pull it together so Joe would never know.

"We have to take him to the station, and YOU cannot tell a soul what he did. I don't want Joe to find out."

"Why are you protecting him?" Lula said, taking in the torn rag my shirt had become and the fact my bra was askew. I could feel that my hair was mussed, and there were a few bruises forming on my arms.

"Joe just can't know, okay?"

"Okay."

She took off her jacket, a "lovely" shade of chartreuse, and handed it to me to cover my bare skin. I took it gratefully, knowing I'd switch it for mine once I got to the car. Lula helped me retrieve my vest, skip bag and pepper spray. I was grateful because I was barely able to control the overwhelming urge to cry.

"Let's get his sorry ass where it belongs! You're sure you're not going to file assault charges?" Lula asked, shaking her head.

"No."

"Are you sure? Steph, if he did this to you, he might do it to someone else."

"No, he did it to me because I was there to take him in."

"He's not so cute anymore is he?" Lula asked.

"He's one of the ugliest men I've ever laid eyes on." I was shaking from head to toe. What if I'd gone on this apprehension alone? No one would have been there to help me. No one would have known where I was. I shuddered just thinking about it. He took me by surprise. Despite my vow to never let it happen again—it had. Even with all the training, I'd let my guard down. _Damn it!_ Ranger and Morelli would be so pissed at me—not to mention Eddie!

Worse yet, Joe would be worried sick. He'd have made sure I stopped shaking and covered me with his own shirt if necessary. Had he been there, he'd have made me press charges and taken my statement.

Afterward, Joe would've made sure I got home and run through the shower. He would've given me fresh clothing—even if it was his last clean garment. Taking the ripped ones for evidence, I would've never seen them again. That was Joe—so protective and loving, and God, I needed him right then! It was all I could do not to call him. He'd told me I could call if I ever needed him, and oh God, I did.

I always would.

But I had to learn to do things for myself. I needed to keep standing on my own two feet—even if my legs felt as though they were going to collapse beneath me. There was a chance I wouldn't get Joe back or have him to rely on ever again. I'd been so stupid not to appreciate what I'd had when I had it!

Shivering, I watched Lula roll Beau's limp body onto a blanket she'd found on the couch. I pulled myself together long enough to help her drag the demon cowboy out to Big Blue. Together we managed to shove him into the back seat. Not wanting to take a chance on his escaping, I chained his handcuffed hands to the wardrobe bar above him. He was going where he belonged, and with any luck, they'd put him away for years to come. I was going to make sure Vinnie refused to re-bond him. I knew there was a good chance another agency would, but it sure as hell had better not be ours.

By the time I reached the station, I had stopped shaking quite as much, and I'd replaced Lula's jacket for my own, zipping it to conceal the shabby state of my clothing. I did the best I could with my hair and makeup while Lula drove. Unfortunately, my hands were still shaking slightly.

My heart flipped and landed softly as we pulled into the station. Who was there just getting out of his car? Joe. I wanted to run into his arms and bury my head in his shoulder. I wanted to cry and confess everything to him. My resolve to be strong was caving.

I got out of the car and opened the back door. Joe saw Lula and I and came over to see whom we had in the back seat.

"Wow, a live one!" Joe smiled at me. He took one look into my eyes, and I knew what he'd seen. "Cupcake, are you okay?" The instantaneous concern stung my heart. God I missed him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. He was a handful," I explained vaguely.

"Steph, tell me the truth," Joe demanded, holding my arm gently.

"He got a little out of sorts, and I should've been more prepared."

"Out of sorts—in what way? Did he hurt you?" Joe wasn't going to let this go.

"Oh, you know how they get Officer Hottie—belligerent asses!" Lula came to my rescue, God bless her!

"Yeah, he was a total ass," I agreed, forcing a smile. Joe's hand went out to stroke my hair, and it was all I could do not to cry.

"You need help getting him in? I'll call inside and have a couple of guys out here to help you."

"Thanks, Joe."

"Anytime, Cupcake. I'd help you myself, but I'm late for a meeting."

We shared a smile, and then he was gone. I wanted to run after him and beg him to take me back. I didn't want ONE more damn day to go by without him in my life.

When I got home a half hour later, I grabbed my toothbrush and desperately began to brush my teeth. As I remembered Beau's hands on my body and his mouth over mine, my gagging reflex brought up my breakfast, and I threw up until nothing was left.

I sobbed while turning on the shower. Giving in to the onslaught of tears, I cried for all women who had ever been treated so violently and so cheaply. The tears were intense anger, fear and hatred of men who abused and degraded women. And some were mourning the ONE man I wished I had by my side—who knew me better than anyone and who would've known what to do and say to take the fear, pain, anger and mistrust away.

Only Joe knew me that way, and I wanted him back more than ever. If he showed up at my door and asked me to marry him, I would.

Today.

Right then and there. No doubts. No worries. No hesitation. I hoped with all my heart that day would come. I was so ready for it. I wanted us. I wanted his babies. I wanted a life with him—period.

In the shower, I forced myself to concentrate on those dreams. I wasn't going to let Beau the Beast infiltrate my body or my mind. I imagined Joe as my husband—how blissful it would feel to know every single day of my life would be filled with Joe moments.

Morelli Moments.

I hadn't thought of the journal in a long time. I wondered if he'd ever read it. Maybe not—seeing as he'd never mentioned it. It made me sad to think he wouldn't want to when I'd thought he would. And I thought deep in my heart he would have known how dearly he'd been loved—and still would be forever.

**Joe's POV**

I was sitting at my desk doing paper work, but I couldn't get the image of Steph's face out of my mind. I was worried about her. Something in her eyes earlier today when I'd seen her in the parking lot had alarmed me. Maybe I was just being over-protective. She'd assured me she was okay, and I had to take her word for it.

I was still dealing with a lot of different emotions about Steph. I loved her to distraction—no doubt about it, but I still felt a little niggling of fear every time I allowed myself to think of our future. The trust wasn't there for me, and a part of me was deathly afraid if I found myself ready to start over with her, that I would end up getting hurt again. Trust would take a long time to rebuild. Would I always be dealing with the doubt and the uncertainty, or could she change enough that I'd know the place I held in her life and in her heart was mine alone.

The pain I'd experienced because of her betrayal was not something I felt I could go through a second time. There was so much riding on our reunion. I'd be crazy to jump back into something that might still end up destroying me if it didn't work out. What if Ranger tempted Stephanie again—or someone else did? I wasn't prepared to go through the torture of that!

In all honesty, I sometimes wondered if I'd be better off moving on with my life, although that thought was discarded faster than the Queen of Spades in a Hearts game. My life without her was empty and lonely. No one else could fill her shoes. I'd been crazy to even think I could love another woman as I loved her. Liking Kate or anyone else was a far cry from loving Stephanie.

Captain Michaels poked his head into my office, interrupting my thoughts.

"Oh good—you're still here, Joe."

I looked at my watch. I'd been going over some evidence on a grizzly double homicide case from the night before, and, as usual, I'd lost track of time. Lately, I'd found it was easy to do when you had no one waiting for you at home. No offense to Bob—I loved him, but he wasn't Stephanie. It was already ten thirty. What could Captain Michaels possibly need from me at this hour?

"Yes, Captain? Did you need something?"

"I do indeed. I totally forgot that Kate was going to be flying in tonight from Boston."

"She is? I didn't realize she would be coming back so soon."

"Yes—well, there's some research I need from her on the new operation. She was in New York for part of the week, and then flew to Boston to take care of some engagements with her family. She loves those nieces and nephews of hers. I swear, I thought she'd have at least two or three kids of her own by now."

"Yeah, she told me she really likes kids."

"Well anyway, she _is_ flying back tonight."

"And?"

"And I forgot to have my secretary make her a hotel reservation. I kept Lynn here overtime on the phone, and she tried to get Kate a room, but it turns out with three huge conventions going on all over town, there's not a room to be had."

"What does that have to do with me?" I asked, feeling the old, familiar wariness whenever Michaels was this vague.

"Well of course I'd have her stay at our house. I would in a heartbeat, you know. But my wife's parents are here using our only guest room, and as luck would have it, my twins Jackie and Rachel are also having a double slumber party for their sixteenth birthday party. We're filled to the gills."

"I see."

I didn't see at all.

There was no way in hell I was volunteering to put a beautiful, single, over- the-top, attractively-tempting woman in my house. He couldn't be asking me to do that, could he?

"Joe, I remembered you own a house and was pretty sure you had a spare room. As I recall, we used it once to have you babysit Dickie Orr awhile back. That is still the case, right?

"Uh yeah." Maybe he wanted his in-laws to stay at my house. _Sure he does Joe!_

"Could Kate stay there for the night? I'll try to find her somewhere else tomorrow?"

"You want Kate to stay with me?" I asked. Immediately my mind began racing at the mere thought of it. What would Stephanie think? What would Kate think? What did I think? "There's really _no__where else_ she could go?"

"Not this late. She called a few minutes ago, and her flight's been delayed due to a blizzard warning in Boston. I'm not sure what time it will be here. I can give you the flight number so you can pick her up at the airport. She told me you two hit it off, so what's the problem?"

"Whoa, just a minute." I raised my hand to stop his crazy thinking. There was no way in hell I was going have Kate stay at my place. If I did, I'd probably find Steph jumping off a bridge the next day. I'd already relived finding her in the park over and over—her body frozen and shivering. She'd stopped thinking rationally the moment she'd heard about the lunch I'd had with Kate. I couldn't let anything like that happen again. The look I'd seen in her eyes still haunted me.

With Burg gossip, she'd know I had a female houseguest before morning. That coupled with the fact I'd admitting to liking Kate would leave Stephanie furious and heartbroken.

There was also the very real complication that I did _like_ Kate. Maybe I couldn't trust myself to be alone with her. I knew what I'd promised Stephanie, but something had come over me the moment I'd set eyes on Kate that I hadn't felt in a very long time toward anyone but Stephanie. I didn't want to put myself to the test. I was vulnerable and lonely, and the mere thought of seeing Kate again was doing things to my head and heart that I couldn't control. It was weird, because I'd just told myself Kate could never compare with Steph. I must be more wiped out than I'd even realized.

"Look, Joe, I wouldn't ask you, but I promised her Dad I'd take care of her whenever she was here. You know he's an old buddy, and I don't have anyone else I can ask at this hour. I can't believe I forgot to book the damn hotel room!" Michaels usually stayed pretty calm, cool and collected. "I didn't have the heart to tell Kate there were no rooms available. She sounded so tired, and now she's got the delayed flight to deal with too. This is just so fucked up! I can't believe I screwed up this bad."

His pleading eyes _got_ to me. Rolling mine in resignation, I said, "What airline—give me the flight number."

"Oh thanks, Joe. You're a real life-saver!"

I was grateful Kate's flight was delayed, because I had to go to the grocery store to stock up on breakfast items. Racing home, I put new sheets on the guest bed. For some damned reason—when I was in the store, I'd grabbed a vase of flowers because they reminded me of spring, figuring after the grueling day she'd had, Kate would appreciate the promise of nicer, warmer days ahead. I felt guilty because I couldn't remember the last time I'd bought Steph flowers. If we made it back together, there was a lot I needed to make up for in the romance department.

I felt nervous all the way to the airport. I'd called to check on Kate's arrival time, and her flight was due to land in a half hour. Why did I have that funny, anticipatory feeling in my stomach? I hadn't seen her since our lunch. I'd had no intention of ever seeing her again except in a working capacity.

And now—out of the blue—she was about to spend the night in my house. Captain Michaels told me she had a checked bag, so I headed to baggage claim to look for her.

The airport was fairly deserted at that hour, and I saw her almost immediately standing by the carousal. She was wearing blue jeans and a cowl necked black sweater. Her feet were adorned in black leather boots, and she wore a matching leather duster length coat. I'd know her anywhere because of the way she held her tall sleek body.

I stayed back, because she was in a heated conversation with an airline employee.

"What do you mean you don't have my luggage?" Her tone was pretty irate, and she looked as though she wanted to shoot the guy with whom she was talking. I felt a little sorry for him. That Irish temper of hers was obviously in the ugly stages. I wondered if she was carrying her gun?

"I got on a non-stop flight that was delayed three hours, and YOU didn't get my bag on it! Are you freaking kidding me? Do you know how ridiculous that is—not to mention incompetent!"

I remembered a time when Steph and I had flown to the Caribbean for a long weekend. Her luggage hadn't made it, but mine had. She'd been so great about it. We'd bought her a few new things to tide her over, and I'd shared anything else she needed. She was a no fuss/no frills girl, and I really loved that about her. Yet when she dressed up, she was ALL woman, and there was no mistaking the beauty of her—inside or out.

Kate was getting nowhere, and I was feeling beyond exhausted.

I stepped up, hoping to intervene.

"Kate, it's okay. We can stop somewhere and get you a few things till the bag gets here," I offered reasonably.

"Joe, I didn't know you were here. Sorry, I just had a very long, grueling day and a horribly bumpy flight only to find they didn't put my bag on!"

The airline guy offered his apologies and promised to notify her the minute the bag arrived. He indicated he'd call for delivery instructions.

After he left, she smiled that dazzling smile I'd seen when I first met her, and I quickly put the anger down to the fact she was having a bad moment. Everyone had those, so I smiled back.

"Joe, it's so good to see you again. Thanks so much for picking me up. It's so late. I'm sorry—you're probably way past your bedtime. I told Captain Michaels I could get a cab, but he insisted."

Her hair was loose and fell in soft coppery waves to her shoulders. She had dark circles under her jeweled green eyes—so obviously fatigued. But the sparkle in those eyes was as alive and beautiful as when I first met her.

"It's fine. I slept in a little this morning. I had two really long days back to back. I needed to catch up a bit. Apparently murderers NEVER sleep in the Burg."

"Oh yikes—sorry, Joe! This wasn't good timing for you."

"Hey, I'm fine, and you look more exhausted than I feel."

She blushed, and self-consciously pushed back her hair. "I've definitely looked better!"

"I didn't mean it like that! Jeez, I'm sorry—you're gorgeous!" I blurted unintentionally, but she _was_ an absolutely beautiful woman. That was the truth. I'd bet people told her all the time.

Her eyes smiled at me, and I knew she didn't mind the compliment. _Shit_. _What was wrong with me_? I felt like an awkward teenager all of a sudden. My promises to Steph felt like they were flying out the damned window. I had to stop this "_liking"_ thing before it got way out of hand. I'd made a commitment to Steph that we still had a future, and I didn't have any intention of breaking it—except when Kate was actually next to me in the flesh.

Then I felt myself weakening by the second.

"So you got drafted into picking me up and driving me to the hotel?"

"Uh—well yes, I'm picking you up, but didn't Captain Michaels tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"His secretary tried to make you a reservation, but there wasn't a room available. It seems there are at least three huge conventions in town, and the rooms are booked solid till early next week."

"No, he didn't tell me that."

"Well—uh—I have a guest room at my house. I've put people up before when—uh—the need arises. So he asked me if you could stay there tonight." The nervous energy was invading my body again. What the hell was I so damned nervous about?

"That's really kind of you, Joe, but I don't want to put you out. Are you sure you don't mind me staying with you?"

"No problem—just beware of Bob, my dog," I warned her.

"Is he a watchdog?"

"Not exactly."

"Biter?"

"No, never."

"Okay, I give up. What is it I need to be aware of?"

"He likes to eat everything. Don't leave your shoes or your suitcase where he can get it."

"Oh!" She laughed, and it was music to my ears.

"Believe me, there is _nothing_ Bob won't eat—furniture, gym socks underwear. He's not picky when it comes to flavor."

She smiled again, and even though she was tired, her eyes twinkled.

We talked about a bunch of different things on the way to my house. I was surprised that given her fatigue, she was still as amusing and animated as she'd been the first day I met her. It was funny how natural it felt to be driving along and holding a conversation as if we'd been doing it for years. There was no awkwardness, and that scared the shit out of me. _Why wasn't this virtual stranger a stranger to me?_

We stopped at a twenty-four hour Target, so she could get what she needed for the night and the next day. I wasn't too thrilled at how much time she took deciding. One of the many things I loved about Steph was her ability to shop like a pro. She knew exactly what she wanted and seemed to zero in on it without hemming and hawing over it. Considering how uncertain she was about the other more serious aspects of her life, it was actually pretty funny.

We pulled up to the house, and I felt a little ill at ease bringing Kate there. Something told me she was pretty used to upscale living, and my house wasn't exactly more than medium scale.

As we walked in, Bob bounded over to greet us. I knew he liked Kate because after his usual rambunctious greeting, he sat next to her and leaned his whole body into her. I had to apologize for his bad manners, as usual, but Kate seemed to love it. She petted and talked to him sweetly, seemingly understanding her praise of what a handsome dog he was. Animal love was definitely blind. I doubt even Bob thought he was handsome. I'd come home earlier to grab dinner and taken him out for a long walk before heading back to work, so he just needed a few minutes to relieve himself in the back yard.

"This is really cozy, Joe—nice place," Kate nodded, looking around at the newer furniture mixed with Aunt Rose's antique curtains.

"It was my Aunt Rose's house. She left it to me out of the blue. I had no idea I was even in her will. I decided to give it a try. Up until then, it was man-cave apartments all the way."

"It suits you."

I bowed my head, hiding a smile. I didn't feel ill at ease any longer. There was something about Kate I realized wasn't spoiled or high-maintenance. Even if she looked like she could be, she just wasn't. The suitcase thing had to have been because she was as worn out as I was.

"Where are my manners? Are you hungry or thirsty? I have wine or beer, and uh leftovers that my mom sent over today—Italian food of course."

"Are you sure? It's late, and you must want to get to bed." I could tell she didn't want to be a nuisance.

"Of course I'm sure." I smiled in spite of my resolve not to let this woman get under my skin.

"Wine would be great. I get nervous when I fly. And I'm famished. I thought I was going to be late for the flight, so I nibbled some crackers on the way to the airport. But I hate eating before I fly, so even with the delayed flight, I didn't dare have anything more." She bent over the flowers holding a yellow rose between two fingers to sniff the aromatic perfume. "Mmm…I love yellow roses."

"Steph loves them too."

In that moment, I realized I'd subconsciously bought them for Steph—not Kate. I'd had no idea what Kate liked, but I knew what Steph did only too well. I wished for a moment I could have taken them to Stephanie, especially after seeing her eyes that morning. She'd looked like she needed something to make her smile. I didn't want to torture her though by romantic gestures before I was ready to fully commit again.

"I'm glad you like them." It figured I'd be attracted to a woman that liked the same things Steph did.

"I do. This is a nice ending to a very long night."

"What's wrong with me? You're still hungry. Here, let me take care of that. One delicious plate of my mother's homemade manicotti coming right up."

"Thanks, Joe. You really know how to treat a woman."

Her easy, complimentary demeanor threw me off, and as hard as I tried not to let it hit my heart, it did—instantly. Kate and I had an effortless rapport and seeing her again did nothing to cool my feelings toward her. If anything, I found myself enjoying the fact she was back in my life again way too much.

Uncorking a bottle of red wine, I poured two glasses and handed one to Kate.

I put her food in the microwave and picked up my glass. "Salute'," I said. "Welcome back." I was surprised by how much I meant it. _Had I actually missed her without realizing it?_

"Thanks, Joe—Salute'. We clinked our glasses, and as we sipped the wine, our eyes never left one another's. "Thank you so much for letting me stay with you. I guess without you I'd have been homeless tonight!"

"I'd never let that happen," I assured her.

She heard the microwave go off, and we both headed toward it at the same time.

"Let me help," she offered. "You don't need to be waiting on me."

I readjusted the microwave for the additional thirty seconds I knew it would take to heat the food.

As we turned around in the small kitchen area, our bodies bumped together. I reached out to stop Kate from falling against the counter. Our lips simultaneously parted as if to speak, but no words came out. Sparks flew between us, and before I knew what I was doing our faces drew closer and closer. I could feel her sweet breath against my lips, and I felt the temptation to kiss her. It would be easy to escape from the loneliness I'd been going through—a moment to forget the pain I was working to get past and just enjoy something freely.

My imagination ran away for that split second. I could almost feel my fingers combing into her luxuriously soft, ruby tresses. It would be heaven to feel her hand cupping the back of my head as well. Smiling, I visualized her tapered fingers raking through the hair at the nape of my neck. I envisioned her lips touching mine, first teasingly and then feverishly. She'd taste so sweet, so delectable. We'd kiss softly and lightly at first—just testing and tasting one another. Then our mouths would open fully, and we'd share a tongue-to-tongue exchange that would hold the heat of a thousand fires.

The shrill, beeping reminder of the microwave brought me out of the dangerous fantasy. _What in the hell was I thinking?_ This wasn't me! I couldn't let this happen. Guilt descended on my brain like an avalanche of frigid snow. I stepped back from Kate as if I'd been severely burned.

"Stephanie?" She asked softly.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

"I'm sorry," I breathed it out like a whisper. "Let me get your food."

I turned my back to Kate, trying with all I had in me to get it together. I pulled the plate out from the microwave and found my hands were shaking.

"Here, you need to eat."

"Joe, I wanted you to kiss me. I would have kissed you. I was thinking about what it would feel like too. It's not like she's been faithful to you. Why are you so willing to take her back after the way she hurt you?"

_What was she psychic?_ No, she was feeling exactly what I was!

Shit! And what could I say to her about my loyalty to Steph? Sometimes it seemed crazy to me too!

"You're a very attractive man, Joe. I bet there are many women who feel the same way I do. It's okay to have feelings for someone else. She did."

That was _not_ something I should be hearing right then. I didn't need the encouragement. But hearing her say it, made me feel happy inside. How could I feel happy and guilty as hell at the same time? Was this how it was for Stephanie with Ranger?

No, because Stephanie never stopped it.

Thank God I hadn't done the same thing as her. What if I had? What could I have said to Steph after our promise of "when?" There's no way I could've explained a kiss away, because it wouldn't have stopped there. We'd have gone upstairs and started something I wouldn't have ever been able to excuse or apologize about enough. Stephanie would never have forgiven me. And I would have never forgiven myself.

"It's not okay. I do _love_ Stephanie. I haven't told you yet, but she found out about our lunch, and it _really_ hurt her."

"Oh. I'm sorry, Joe, but she really hurt you too."

"You didn't see her. I found her sitting in the park half frozen. We talked, and I was honest with her. I'm going to be honest with you too, Kate. I _like _you. I did the moment we met."

"Joe, I _like _you too."

I shook my head. "I promised Steph that I'd try really hard to get past the betrayal and forgive her so that we could move on—together—hopefully soon."

"I understand," she said, although I could see she didn't. Something in her voice told me she wasn't really supportive of my decision to get back with Steph.

"I don't even understand! How could I expect you to?" I exclaimed frustrated.

"You're still in love with her. Love isn't something that can be explained sometimes."

"Tell me about it."

"Joe, I appreciate your being so honest—" She looked away from me as though she felt guilty about something.

"What's wrong?"

"I want to be totally honest with you too." She put her fork down and looked straight into my eyes.

The beeper on my belt buzzed, interrupting whatever she was about to say. I took it off my belt and read the message. _Shit!_ "So much for sleeping tonight."

"You have to go?"

"Yeah, unfortunately murderers like to do their goriest work late into the night."

"I'll be fine here."

"Let me take you upstairs at least and show you to your room. Uh—the main bathroom is off my bedroom. If you want to shower or anything, use that one. I left you plenty of fresh towels. There's another half bath through that door." I pointed her in the right direction.

She followed me up the stairs, and suddenly I was grateful I'd been called away. I couldn't imagine how tempted I would be all night with her in the room right next to mine.

Oh God, how would Stephanie handle the news I'd had an overnight female guest. Even if it were innocent and unexpected, she wouldn't be happy.

I needed to call her first thing in the morning before word got to her. Thank God I'd stopped at a fantasy about kissing Kate. I couldn't imagine having to confess to Steph I'd actually done it after insisting she not lie to me anymore! I wasn't going to lie to her either. If we were meant to get back together, the foundation of our relationship had to be grounded in truth and trust. If I'd gone through with a kiss to Kate, I would have jeopardized my entire future with Steph.

I was dead tired and realized if I hadn't been; I would have never allowed that dream of Kate. I had an attraction to her—nothing more. _And I would never let it be more._ Stephanie was the love of my life. No other woman would ever measure up to my feelings for her. I felt a little better knowing at least that would never change. I wasn't about to let anyone or anything else come between us. Nothing was worth the cost of losing her forever.

It was nearly five in the morning by the time I'd put the murder investigation to bed—at least until later that day. I was on my way home, but there was no way I could go to bed knowing by sunrise the Burg would be ready for a new day of jaw flapping. I had to call Steph and tell her before I could sleep peacefully.

Sitting in my SUV in front of my house—not wanting to go in loudly and disturb Kate's sleep—I hit the familiar but lately abandoned speed-dial number on my phone. I felt badly I'd awaken Stephanie, but there was no other choice. I could barely keep my eyes open and knew sleep would claim me as soon as my head hit the pillow. By the time I'd awaken later, she'd have been blasted by the burg bomb of the day. Joe Morelli had a woman in his house overnight. It would take something as innocent as one little sighting of Kate letting the dog out or picking up the morning paper, and all hell would break loose again.

"Hilo." I heard her soft sleepy voice pick up on the fourth ring.

"Hi, Cupcake—sorry to call you so early."

"Joe? Are you okay?"

"Are you?" I had to ask. I'd been thinking about her ever since I'd seen her yesterday morning.

"Yeah, but it's good to hear your voice."

"Yours too, Cupcake."

"Are you sure everything's all right?"

"Yeah, I just needed to tell you something before you hear it from anyone else."

Silence.

"Sorry—okay. I'm still half asleep. What did you need to tell me?" I could hear a thread of worry in her tone.

"I had to take in a last-minute houseguest last night unexpectedly." _Could I be anymore vague?_

"Oh? Okay—well who?"

"Kate." Steph immediately knew whom I meant despite previously knowing her name.

Silence.

"Steph, are you there?"

"Uh…yes." Her voice was so soft it was almost imperceptible.

"Just hear me out okay?"

"Kate's the redhead you had lunch with—the same woman you told me you _like and are attracted to_." Her pain was evident in every syllable.

"Stephanie, she had nowhere else to go. The secretary was supposed to make her a reservation but forgot, and was too late to make one. There are conventions all over town. Everything is booked."

"I see."

"Look, I called you to tell you so you wouldn't hear a bunch of shit from the grapevine that isn't true."

"Are _you _going to tell me the _truth_?"

"Always."

"Did she sleep in your bed?"

"No. I don't think so," I amended quickly.

She laughed sarcastically. "You don't think so? You don't know if a beautiful woman was sleeping next to you?"

"No, I don't know where she slept, because I got called out to a murder investigation, and I'm just heading home now. Don't worry though. If I find her in my bed, I'll kick her out," I teased.

I heard a deep intake of breath. _Relief._

"Okay," came the sleepy but worried response.

"I picked her up at the airport and took her to the house."

"Then you got called to work?"

"After a bit—yes." I swallowed hard.

"Something happened," she said it as though she'd known it from the moment she'd heard my voice on the phone.

"Nothing happened!" _Please God forgive me for those lurid thoughts. _

Silence.

"Steph, are you there?"

"I don't know. I think I'm having a bad dream."

"Nothing HAPPENED! I was gone all night."

"But what if you weren't? What if you hadn't gotten that call?"

"Why "what if" anything? I did get called, and I wasn't there."

"Are you still attracted to her, Joe? Do you still like her?"

_Shit!_

"Yes." I refused to lie. I couldn't do that after all the betrayal I'd been handed. I wouldn't do that to anyone.

Ever.

Silence.

"Steph, are you there?"

"I don't know what to say."

"I do. Nothing has changed. Everything we talked about before still holds true for me."

"But you _like_ her! Do you want her?"

"I _love you, and I want you_."

"What happened to you promising me you wouldn't see her anymore?"

"This whole thing came up out of the blue. Was I supposed to let her sleep on the street?"

"I'd have lent her a blanket and a pillow," Steph said, hardly meaning it as a joke.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked, knowing our relationship was on shaky enough ground without adding to the faults.

"How would you feel if I invited a guy to come over and sleep here right now?"

I cleared my throat. A countless parade of men from Diesel to Mooner to Vinnie had stayed at her apartment through the years, and I'd never thought twice about it. Only when Ranger had stayed was I on pins and needles. "You've had lots of men over to spend the night at your place. Did something happen with them?"

"You know that it didn't!"

"Nothing happened with Kate either! She needed a bed."

"I want to claw her eyes out!" Her belligerent honesty brought a big smile to my face.

"My little tiger," I couldn't resist teasing her.

"You'd better get over the _liking her and the attraction_!"

"Or?" I baited her, enjoying her threats.

"Or I'll claw YOUR eyes out first!" she warned me only half-kidding.

"You love me!" I informed her affectionately.

"You're scum, Morelli—just plain scum."

"I know, but I'm _your _scum," I promised her faithfully.

"You're the only scum I've ever wanted," she assured me before hanging up. As I fell asleep twenty minutes later, the smile was still on my lips after hearing her admit she still wanted me—scum and all.

Two hours later, the insistent buzzing of my phone awakened me. _Damn!_ I should have turned the infernal thing off.

"Hello? Cathy is that you?"

"Yes, it's me, brother dear. Who else would it be?" Cathy had always been the smartass of the family in addition to me.

"Cut me some slack. I had a late night of blood and gore."

"Jeez, you sound like a character from Twilight." That was my big sister—ever the comedian.

"I think that would be a step up from my life."

"Uh-oh—you're not going to appreciate what I'm about to ask you then," she warned me.

"Spit it out. With our family, nothing would surprise me."

"Well, Matt's running a high fever, and Ron is out of town. I tried calling Ma, but she has a bad cold, and Angelina and Adrienne have Christmas stuff to take care of. I'd never ask you, Joe, but there's NO one else."

"Oh no! You've got to be kidding me. I mean, I know you have to take Matt to the doctor, but I've had about three hours sleep, and that's the highest number for the entire week!"

"Joe, it's only the three little ones."

"That's like saying it's only a category five hurricane!" I barked hoarsely.

"Please?"

"Oh shit! Okay, but you tell them if they're not on their best behavior, Uncle Joe's going to make a jail cell for them and throw away the key!"

"I will. Thanks, Joe. You're the best brother ever!"

"The best chump you mean!"

"Be there in a few," Cathy promised me. It sounded more like a threat. _Oh boy._ The fun never ended with the Morelli family. I yawned and felt that sick to the stomach feeling I got whenever my sleep was too short and something suddenly awakened me. _Damn, it was going to be a hellishly long day._

Stumbling into the shower, the water did nothing to wake up my body. I was exhausted. I could have slept standing up.

I grabbed a pair of clean sweats and marched downstairs to find Kate dressed and making breakfast. She had bacon frying, scrambled eggs bubbling and had just put bread into the toaster.

Looking up from her tasks, she smiled happily. "Morning, sleepy head. I heard your phone go off. You have to go in already?"

"Nope—I've got a rather rowdy set of three, under-the-age-of-ten children coming over soon. Their mom is my sister Cathy. Her oldest boy's sick, and she has to take him to the doctor. It turns out my mother has the bug too, and she can't find anyone else to watch her other three kids. Everyone is out of school for Christmas break. She'll be here any minute."

"Really!" Kate's smile widened by a mile. "I better put on more bacon."

"You must have gotten a great night's sleep. Either that or you took your happy pills. Are you for real? My nieces and nephews are usually a handful!" I warned her while pouring myself a badly needed cup of coffee. I took a sip and closed my eyes for a few blissful seconds.

"I miss my nieces and nephews like crazy. I'd love to help watch them while you go back to bed. You've hardly gotten any sleep."

"Sorry, did I wake you when I came in?" I grabbed the toast that popped up and started to butter it.

"No, I can simply tell you're still exhausted. Let me take care of breakfast. Once your sister drops off the kids, just go back to bed. I can handle it, I promise. Besides, it's the least I can do after you put me up last night."

I smiled. She was such a sweetheart. I loved my nieces and nephews, but if I didn't get a little more sleep, I'd probably keel over soon. Fatigue was not good when you needed a clear mind to follow a murderer's Spartan clues.

The loud din at the door signaled the arrival of the brood. Cathy looked disheveled and agitated as the troops marched in holding an open box of cereal and a carton of milk. They all had their backpacks overstuffed with dolls and toys. My sister kissed me on the cheek, and her mouth dropped open as she took in Kate cooking breakfast so capably in my kitchen.

"Hello?" Cathy did a double take, lifting her eyebrow at me.

"Uh…Cathy this is Kate. Kate, this is my sister, Cathy, along with Roberto, my nephew, and my nieces Gina and Sophia."

"Hi." She extended her hand to my sister first, then turned her attention to Roberto, complimenting him on how tall he was. Kate then went down on her knees to talk to Gina and Sophia, winning them both over immediately.

"Gina, that's a beautiful doll in your backpack. Can I see her?"

"Yes," Gina answered shyly. She pulled the doll out and gave it to Kate. "You know she looks like you with the big brown eyes."

Gina smiled, and I could see she'd be happy to stay with Kate.

Sophia, only four but the most outgoing of the children, had her usual curiosity going. "Why is your hair so red? Do you put dye on it like my mommy? Your eyes are so shiny! Are you going to marry Uncle Joe? Where's Aunt Stephanie?" _No doubt my sister was thinking the same thing!_

Kate laughed and answered her in the order of her questions. "My hair is naturally red. My eyes are shiny because I'm happy to meet you, Sophia, and your uncle and I are just friends. As for Stephanie, you'd have to ask your Uncle Joe."

I roughhoused a bit with Roberto, and then took each one of my nieces up into my arms. Receiving a hug from those little angels was the highlight of a bachelor uncle's life. Every time I felt those chubby arms latched around my neck so completely trusting and loving reinforced the fact I wanted one of my own.

"We have bacon, eggs and toast for anyone who's hungry. Of course you can have the cereal too if you'd rather," Kate offered, guiding the kids to the table.

My sister smiled gratefully. "Okay, I'd better get Matt to the doctor before he flips a gasket. He hates the doctor! I'll be back as soon as I can. With all this flu going around, it could be a long wait. And then I'll probably have to go to the pharmacy and stop at the grocery store."

She mouthed to me silently that she liked Kate, and I rolled my eyes. I was wondering if she were planning to pick up the kids by the time they turned eighteen!

"Take your time," I told her. "I think we'll be just fine." I smiled as I watched Kate helping Gina put jam on her toast.

We'd finished breakfast, and Kate had the kids help with the clean up. She insisted I go upstairs and get that sleep I needed so badly. I took one last look at her and the normally over active trio were mysteriously acting like angels today. Kate evidently had that way about her and brought out the best in everyone she met—except maybe airline employees.

"You sure?" I asked dubiously, wondering how long this change of behavior could last.

"Absolutely," she nodded.

"It's okay, Uncle Joe. You go night-night. Kate will take good care of us!" Sophia declared, walking over to my chair and patting my cheek soothingly.

I took that as my cue to leave. Mouthing a sincere thanks to Kate, I got a sweet smile in return and off to bed I went.

**Steph's POV**

It was mid-morning, and I couldn't shake my conversation with Joe. He was still attracted to this woman. That shook me to my core. It wasn't good with Joe and I still so far apart, and now for some God forsaken reason, SHE was in HIS house! She'd stayed overnight! Was she still there? Would she find a hotel or would she be there longer? How could I trust that Joe would resist her charms? She had to have plenty of them for Joe to be so smitten. I almost wished he had lied and said he didn't like her anymore.

I knew he loved me, but I'd done so much to shake our relationship, and he wasn't ready to start over. The fact he'd met someone he really liked wasn't helping him get any closer to me either. If anything, it was going to hold our reunion up indefinitely—maybe even permanently.

I needed to see this female that had turned Joe's head—to see what it was about her that made him unable to deny his feelings. Joe wouldn't lie to make me jealous. He'd been telling me the God's honest truth when he said he liked her. The tone of his voice and the look in his eyes had scared the shit out of me. I could lose him to her. Something in his expression had told me that. It had softened almost the same way it did for me. It hurt deeply to see that.

Not even stopping to think, I got in to Big Blue and headed for Joe's house. What would I say? 'Hey, I was just in the neighborhood'. Right. I wasn't going to lie anymore. I'd made up my mind. I'd go right up to the door and if _she_ answered it, I'd put her in a headlock and threaten her within an inch of her life if she didn't find a goddamned hotel before the day's end. Who was I kidding? I had no right to demand anything of her—or of Joe for that matter.

Curiosity was killing me, and I didn't care if I had to swallow my pride. I just needed to know what I was up against.

I parked Big Blue a block away. Walking up to the door with shaky legs, I knocked before I could change my mind.

The door opened, and there she was. _Holy shit!_

"Hi, can I help you?" she smiled graciously.

"Hi—is Joe home?" I asked, glad I'd put on light make-up and chosen a pair of black skinny jeans and a red, cleavage-enhancing sweater. I still felt like a sack of potatoes next to Kate, but at least a not half-bad sack. She was drop dead gorgeous. My sister had lied to me and then some. No wonder Joe was so taken with her. And I sensed I wasn't even going to be able to hate her. That totally sucked.

"He is, but he's resting. He had a very late night last night."

"Oh, of course."

"Auntie Stephanie!" I was shocked to see little Sophia running toward me with her arms opened wide. I bent down and caught her animated hug. I may not have been exactly mommy material yet, but I didn't mind getting those hugs. There was just something so life affirming about them.

The other two rag-muffins came at me with the same enthusiasm. "Hey kids, how are you? What are you all doing here?" Why was Joe in bed with three crazy out of control children running around his house?

"Matt's sick," Sophia explained. "He's getting shot!" She nodded vigorously. "So he won't die."

My eyes went wide. Sophia never ceased to amaze me. She was so little, but she was always the outspoken one even over the older kids in the Morelli clan. I'd spent a fair share of time with those kids at all the various Morelli family gatherings—birthdays, half of all the holidays we'd share split between our families, weddings, baptisms and a few wild summer picnics. I'd gotten to know the kids pretty well, and for some crazy reason, they'd considered me an aunt even though Joe and I weren't married. I liked it. They were beautiful kids with dark hair and Joe like eyes. They could be a handful, but what kid wasn't?

"Sounds serious." I kept back my smile.

"She's always exagravating," Gina explained in her six-year-old jargon.

I nodded and smiled.

Kate smiled too.

"It's nice to meet you, Stephanie." She extended a warm friendly hand. "I'm Kate. Joe has spoken highly of you."

"Hello, Kate. Joe told me you were staying here." I took the hand offered reluctantly. I did NOT want to like her. It was bad enough Joe did! And what had Joe said exactly? _Highly?_ What did that mean. Did he tell her I was good in bed? Or did he tell her I was the love of his life! It'd better be the latter.

Suddenly the kids went bonkers. The sedatives must have worn off, because simultaneously all three were fighting. Kate turned from me and instantly knew what to do. She asked them what was going on and stayed calm, reasoning patiently with them. As she resumed order, Joe descended the stairs. I was standing back behind the sofa, and he didn't see me. His concentration was centered on the children.

He looked like he'd just woken up. His curls were askew, and his eyes were glassy from too little sleep. As another argument ensued between the three kids, he went over to help Kate. I felt like I was witnessing a homey family scene, looking through a window into their future. Joe and Kate were so easygoing with the kids, and they knew just what to do. Kate took away the offending object of the argument and secretly passed it to Joe. Joe smiled at her and ruffled the tops of his nieces and nephews heads affectionately.

"You're great with these kids," Joe praised Kate. I heard the compliment, and it hit me in the stomach. Joe was seeing everything I was seeing. Kate was a perfect match for Joe. She was busy at the counter fixing sandwiches for all of them. Joe hadn't seen me. He didn't even know I was there. I wished I could sneak out before he did. He turned around as if he felt my presence somehow, and his eyes blinked twice. He was clearly surprised to find me there.

"Cupcake?" He smiled, and I wanted to cry.

"I just…"

"Joe," Kate interrupted us. "Steph came to see you. I'm so glad you didn't miss her. The kids just love her!"

"I know. She's their favorite aunt," Joe said. His tired eyes smiled. It was if he sensed my out of place feelings. If I didn't already love him madly, I'd have fallen in love with him all over again.

"You—two—met?" He was obviously ill at ease with the thought his two love interests had made contact. He was probably afraid I'd tell her all his faults, and she'd go running back home to the hole she came from. In that moment I realized all his faults wouldn't tear me away from him ever again, because the good in Joe Morelli far outweighed anything bad.

"Yes—she answered the door."

"Good. Kate is uh—" Joe seemed at a loss for any further explanation.

"I'm the widow of one of Joe's old Navy buddies. I'm here on some business, and Joe was kind enough to put me up. My secretary forgot to make the reservations at a hotel. Imagine my relief when Joe offered me his spare room!" Kate smiled.

I noticed Joes eyebrows raise slightly as if he didn't want me to know the details of their connection.

I forced a return smile and repeated inanely, "Imagine."

Why in the hell hadn't Joe told me this? A widow? _Shit!_ Why couldn't she still be happily married to the Navy buddy? Oh—right—because he was dead! _Damn!_ Now I could see how Joe would be drawn to her even more, given his emotional ties to his dead friend, plus his need to always reach out and help someone who was suffering or in pain. Freaking hell! How could I hate a woman who had lost her husband and needed someone like Joe? I _needed _Joe!

"Would you like a sandwich, Stephanie? I have plenty," Kate offered.

"No, no—I should be going."

"Please stay," Joe requested. The three kids chimed in and added affirmation they wanted me to stay as well.

"I can't—really. I have a lot of stuff to do this afternoon."

"Can we have a word?" Joe asked, motioning me into the dining room.

"I'm sorry, Joe. I shouldn't have come."

"You wanted to see what she was like." He smiled affectionately.

I nodded miserably. "Yeah."

"And?"

"And I hate her. She's beautiful, and sweet and so damn good with those kids!"

"And?" He cajoled, using his fingers to brush a curl back from my forehead.

"And I don't want you to _like_ her or be _attracted_ to her! But she's so perfect for you! I can see why you are." I was so close to tears it wasn't funny.

"She's not you."

Three simple words and my world opened up again with sunshine and birds singing and—yes—even a freaking rainbow!

My fingers reached out to trace his weary mouth. I loved that mouth, and if it weren't for the kids, I'd make a move on Morelli that would leave him begging for more. And I wouldn't give a shit if Kate saw it or not. In fact I'd make sure she did.

"I better go before I reward you for those three little words."

"I'm really glad you came by, Cupcake."

"Me too. Is she staying longer?"

"I don't know," he told me honestly.

"I love you, Joe." My eyes filled with it. He couldn't possibly miss it.

His eyes returned my feelings. "I love you too, Cupcake."

"She's so perfect. Are you liking her any less yet?"

"She's not perfect, and when you're around, it's a _lot _less."

"You want me to stay?"

"More than you know."

"Okay—then I'll go."

Joe smiled, and his eyes lit up with that familiar, warm, molten chocolate, passion-laced look of love.

And I knew he _liked me more_.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

**These are not my characters. I make no profit. **

**Carol Thank you as always for your wisdom and expertise. My writing is in such amazing hands. I value that more than you know. **

**Cupcakes and Babecakes thanks everyone for the kind reviews and support, you make me want to keep writing! **

**Steph's POV**

_I was walking on the beach with Joe hand in hand. It was a beautiful day. We were talking and laughing, and it was so amazing to be with him like that again. It was as though we didn't have a care in the world. We were swinging our arms like little kids—both of us so blissfully free and happy._

_The look in his eyes sent little zapping electric charges of elation through my heart. God it was so good to have him back in my life._

_Suddenly the wind began to howl, and the sun was hidden behind dark menacing clouds. The previously calm water turned into turbulent waves rising higher and higher and crashing thunderously against the rocks. Without warning, Joe was gone._

_Looking off into the distance, I tried to see where he'd gone through the grey mist that blocked my view. The haze thinned, and I saw HER in his arms. NO! God NO! Come back to me, Joe! They were in the golden sunlight. It felt as though I was watching them from a million miles away. Ominous grey was closing in on me, and I felt like the earth under my feet was pulling me in—enveloping me like quicksand._

_I saw two small children dancing around Joe and Kate. They were laughing and having such fun. Kate had the little boy's hands, and Joe had the little girl's hands and they were twirling the toddlers into the air in circles. Their happy giggles and innocent joyful sounds filled the air._

_My heart cracked into a million pieces as I saw Joe's happiness with Kate and their family. I wanted to die. _

_Then everything changed._

_Beau Peters was beside me, cackling wickedly as he mocked my pain. His hands were reaching out for me, and I was running like hell to get away from him. The ocean had disappeared, and I was in a dense foggy midnight forest fighting for every breath. My chest was burning, and my heart felt as though it might burst as Peters chased after me. I slid on the mushy, slimy leaves that covered the ground and nearly lost my footing. Onward I ran, knowing my life was in grave danger._

_Then he turned into an enormous Jackal. The Jackal was making a noise that sounded like evil incarnate was taunting me. _

"_Yakan is coming for you." _

_His enormous mouth opened up, and his teeth were razor sharp. Out of nowhere, his face turned into that of Beau Peters. His eyes were black with rage, and his claws raked at my body as he ripped at my clothing._

I sat straight up in bed. The sound of my own moaning screams had awakened me.

Panting for breath as if I'd really been running away from Peters, I put a hand over my heart to try to still the emotionally overwrought palpitations. Another Goddamned nightmare!

I'd been having them almost constantly. As always, I was drenched in perspiration and chilled through to the bone. I could never stay in bed after I was startled awake by the horrid images of my sub-conscious mind.

Padding out to the living room, I turned on the lights and headed to the Christmas tree in the southeast corner. I flipped the switch that turned the Christmas lights on, then turned off the main lights and curled up on the couch, allowing the soft lighting to soothe my senses.

Thank God I'd turned over a new leaf regarding Christmas. In years past, I'd always let it creep up on me, and I'd make a mad dash to get my shopping done. I'd never felt prepared for the holidays. I'd finally realized I'd treated them as I had my old apartment—like an immature teenager.

The new me decided it was time to replace some of the decorations I'd lost in the firebombing of my apartment a couple of years ago. They hadn't been sorely missed since I'd bought them shortly before deciding to marry Dickie Orr. The only reason I'd kept them in the first place was because I'd never gotten to use them during my marriage. As long as I hadn't actually had a memory of them with the hubby from hell they were safe from the incinerator—that was until the firebombing.

I'd decided to go with antique bronze and a deeper shade of aqua to go with my new décor, choosing clear twinkle lights and glass icicles as well. I didn't even put on the stringy, tinny tinsel for fear of spoiling the overall look. I'd come a long way from the usual last minute Christmas Eve tree thrown together to a tree purchased and decorated in the first week of December.

I secretly hoped Morelli would come over during the holidays so I could unveil my new apartment, and he could see how I'd made some grown up changes to my life. I'd even gotten a wreath for the door and purchased a nice disgustingly heavy fruit cake from the bakery. I was holiday ready and then some.

I looked at the tree and felt a little calmer inside. The shivering had lessened too. It was amazing how a mere Christmas tree could bring home that "Peace on Earth" feeling.

It was the perfect distraction to take me out of the melancholy feelings about Morelli and the after effects of my encounter with the skip from hell. Beau Peters had invaded my dreams and turned them into nightmares.

I forced my breathing to slow down and made an attempt to think about the dreams logically. Why were dreams so nebulous? What did they mean?

Was Joe destined to be with Kate? Was I living in a fantasy world believing Joe and I would make it back together one day? Was it just a bunch of irrational uncertainties brought on by my fears?

And why did I keep dreaming about Beau Peters? I thought I'd gotten past what had happened with him. I knew he'd been bonded by another agency was allowed to roam free to be the jackass he was. Jackal—Jackass—no wonder. Though why hadn't he just turned into a donkey? Best not to think about him too much for any reason.

I forced my thoughts into another direction and smiled, remembering shopping for a Christmas tree with Joe.

If I'd been living with him during the holidays, I drove him crazy, because I'd always put decorating off until the last minute. Then it became a mad rush to find the perfect tree. I'd have to practically push his ass out the door into the cold—even if he'd been dead tired. Poor guy—I showed no mercy.

I just couldn't be without the tree. I'm not sure if it was a combination of being asked constantly by my mother if I had one or knowing if I didn't get one, my father would get nagged by my mother to get the only one available at the service station lot—the last place anyone should ever buy a tree.

It would invariably be the ugliest and spindliest tree imaginable. I dreaded those trees. It'd been like trying to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear. Those trees made even Charlie Brown's look full and beautiful.

When we'd decorate a tree at Joe's house, he'd used hand-me-down decorations from his mother and aunts. The same ones who incessantly brought him food and any other essentials they knew a confirmed bachelor might need, including a mismatch of leftover Christmas boxes filled with an eclectic rainbow of decorations.

All that remained of my original decorations were in a box at Mom's house left over from my childhood; along with a few I'd been given as gifts in adulthood.

I had surreptitiously left all of them at my mom's where I'd received most of them as gifts. I had everything from an old 1953 Buick to a lace nightgown from my days at E.E. Martin. Apparently management had thought it was a generous enough gift to forgo the Christmas bonus. _Cheapskates!_

Over the years, my mother gave Val and me ornaments to symbolize whatever our latest interests or favorite movies or TV shows were. At different points in my life, I'd received Wonder Woman, Peter Pan, Zorro and Princess Leia. Having outgrown them, I preferred to keep them at my mother's house where someday they'd be enjoyed by my own little boy or girl.

As I looked over my tree, I smiled upon spying the one ornament that didn't fit with the others on the tree at all, yet fit perfectly in my heart.

Joe had given me a beautiful vanilla porcelain cupcake that had jewels and sparkles all over it. It was my favorite. He'd smiled so lovingly as I opened it during our first Christmas together. The cupcake held a place of honor on my long-needled, pine tree— hung precisely in the middle so you could see it from every angle in the room.

Tears fell down my cheeks thinking about how lonely this Christmas would be without Joe by my side. There would only be one dinner at my parents instead of Joe and I rushing out to have time with his family too. Oh, how we'd groan in mutual bloated pain after having to taste a little of everything at both houses so as not to offend our mothers.

We'd always said how much easier it would've been if our two families could have just gotten together to share _ONE_ dinner. But then, the idea of Grandma Mazur and Grandma Bella trying to keep from killing one another while sharing the same space had sent the concept to the scrap-pile in nothing flat. Instead, we'd load up on Bi-carbonate soda. Of course Joe always had his Maalox handy to share as well, thanks to my crazy life and me.

The thought of Christmas past brought back another sweet memory of Joe.

I got up and went into my bedroom, rummaging through my dresser until I found the little box. Taking it with me out to the living room, I sat down again on the couch and ran my hand over the black velvet as though it held hidden treasure.

I remembered the moment he'd given it to me, doing it privately so no one would interpret his gift the wrong way. God no—we wouldn't have wanted anyone thinking the two of us were engaged. _What a damn fool I'd been!_

Opening the box, tears flowed again as I touched the beautiful ring—platinum and gold intertwined bands set with three beautiful, sparkling, deep-blue sapphires.

I hadn't even told Joe what it'd meant that he would choose something so incredibly beautiful and unique just for me.

I recalled his words when he'd presented it to me in the red foil wrapped package. "It's a friendship ring. We tried the engagement thing, and that didn't work."

"Oh Joe, I'm so sorry!" I whispered to him now in my empty living room. My heart was filled with remorse as I remembered my words in response. "Not yet anyway." At least I'd given him hope.

"Not yet," he'd agreed while slipping the ring on my left hand.

I lovingly removed the ring from the box and placed it on the third finger of my left hand, allowing myself to imagine they were diamonds, and Joe was seated beside me asking me to be his wife.

Images of Kate and Joe infiltrated my lovely fantasy. I saw them back at his house with Sophia, Roberto and Gina, handling the domestic scene as effortlessly as breathing. Then I remembered my nightmare and seeing them with their own children frolicking together on the beach.

"_She's NOT you_!"

Those words Joe had expressed to me at the end of our last conversation vanquished my doubts and warmed my heart again. He'd been so sweet to me that day, making me feel welcome and accepted by his family and assuring me I was the kid's favorite aunt.

I knew he loved me. I prayed to God it was enough to bring us back together. I had no right to hope or expect anything, although I did both anyway, because, damn it, I couldn't imagine it any other way.

Joe was in my soul. He'd taken a place in my heart and now the only thing I could do to honor and show my faith in him was to wait. I'd wait as long as it took. I couldn't imagine my life without his cocky smile and warm loving arms.

Knowing I needed more sleep, I looked down at the ring on my finger. Wearing it felt as though Joe's aura was with me, and I trusted it to alleviate the fear of more nightmares and bring me the peace I needed to sleep.

Four hours later I awakened feeling refreshed and ready to face a new day. It didn't feel right to wear Joe's ring on my finger with our relationship still in "Off" mode, as I didn't want him to feel pressured if he were to see it on my hand. But I also didn't want it to go back into a drawer as if it weren't the most important symbol of his feelings I'd ever received.

I wanted to wear it, so I found a silver chain and removed the pearl already hanging from it. Sliding the ring onto the chain, I went over to stand in front of my bedroom mirror and smiled upon seeing the ring glittering against my skin.

I'd conceal it under my clothing and no one would ever know. It would be my way of keeping my promise to wait for Joe. He was so worth waiting for, and I'd thank my lucky stars if he slipped a ring on my finger ever again. Closing my eyes, I made yet another silent wish for that moment to be in my future.

**Joe's POV**

Days and nights were melting into one another. Sleep was becoming a more rare by the day. It seemed like every time I was called to a murder investigation it was in the middle of the night, only to be followed by an early morning meeting with my team or the Captain.

Luckily, Captain Michael's had found Kate a hotel two days after she arrived, and she'd moved out of my house. I hadn't wanted to see that pain in Steph's eyes again if she'd happened to visit me again. God, I sure as hell wished she would.

It had been such a nice surprise when she'd come over—even if it had been to check out Kate. It meant she loved me deeply. She'd had to swallow her considerable pride to make that visit and it meant so much to me that she had.

I'd kept a picture of us in my wallet—one of my favorites. We'd had a wonderfully rare, carefree day at Point Pleasant, and we'd both dressed up for a romantic dinner.

It'd been a moment I'll never forget, because it had been taken not long after we'd become lovers. After our first intimate encounter, I'd left for over five months on a job without calling or telling her when I'd be back. I hadn't treated her well by doing that, and I still regretted it.

I'd been so grateful when she took me back and our relationship had blossomed. Those first days with Stephanie had been amazing, as she'd opened herself up to me gradually. I knew she'd been scared and I understood it. We'd had such a rough patch in the beginning as teens, and she was a little more than gun shy after idiot Dickhead.

Every moment with her had been like a gift. I hadn't known how much I'd needed her or wanted her until she actually became mine. It felt like I'd found the one true love of my life, and I hadn't planned on ever leaving her again.

That trip to Point Pleasant hadn't been planned—one of the few spontaneous things we'd ever done. I'd been given three days off in a row, and she'd just captured a high paying skip.

We'd been free to go off and just enjoy our time together—breathing in the cool crisp sea air, wading in the water, laughing and talking and getting to appreciate one another in a way we'd never had before.

It was as if we'd always known each other with a depth that could not be described in words.

We'd had so much fun that first day, and going to dinner was something we'd both looked forward to, knowing after dinner would be the most romantic, mind blowing part of the day. I wanted her every day— all the time.

I'd hardly been able to keep my hands off her throughout that day, but I'd wanted the evening to be special for her, and so I'd forced myself not to go too far. We'd kissed and held hands, teasing one another about our mutual, lurid desires that had yet to be satiated.

We'd taken our time getting ready for our evening. Step had looked amazingly hot in a short red dress with stiletto heels. Her hair had been piled up in soft curls that cascaded to frame her beautiful face.

I'd dressed in a charcoal suit but left off the tie, preferring an open-necked, blue shirt. People always told me suits and ties made me look like a casino pit boss. I'd chosen the blue shirt because it reminded me of the ocean we'd enjoyed all that day, along with Stephanie's eyes. We'd both smiled and whispered to one another appreciatively of how well we'd cleaned up.

Unfortunately, it had started to rain just as we decided to walk to the restaurant. We'd been caught without an umbrella, and as soon as we could, we'd dashed under an awning for shelter. But the damage had been done. Our hair had been dripping wet along with our dressy clothing.

We'd both shrugged and laughed, choosing to see the humor of the situation. We'd been in the "honeymoon" phase of a new relationship and had wanted to enjoy and share every moment we could.

Chuckling uncontrollably at our predicament, the laughter had turned into desire as we began kissing feverishly. We'd nearly decided to forgo dinner entirely and walk back to our hotel in the rain. The combinations of the primitively beating rain and the water droplets beading on our skin had sent our passionate natures into overdrive. As luck would have it, both our stomachs had chosen that moment to growl, and we'd decided having no dinner wasn't an option.

One of the waiters had taken our picture. He'd captured us gazing lovingly into each other's eyes, our hair plastered to our heads and our clothing soaked through. We'd been so blissfully happy we hadn't care.

Those were the precious imperfect moments I totally treasured.

Stephanie and I would try to be formal and proper with our dates and nine times out of ten we'd end up soaked like that or have some other kind of misfire happen. There were times we chucked the idea of going out all together and just stayed at home preferring take-out food and making out to anything formal or ostentatious.

What I loved most about her was, regardless of whatever mishap or mayhem happened, we rolled with it together, finding the fun in the silly wacky things that happened to us. As long as we were together, nothing else had mattered.

She'd given me so much I didn't realize I was missing. I wanted that happiness again and found myself craving it daily.

I'd reflected more on my feelings about Kate. God knows I was seeing her often enough. We seemed to be thrown together all the time. Captain Michaels would ask me to pick her up at the hotel in the mornings if he couldn't, and we'd shared a few breakfasts and some lunches.

She'd made me laugh a lot, and the time I'd spent with her made me even forget how tired I was. She was becoming quite a good friend, and nothing more than that one close encounter at my house had happened between us. I think she was resigned to the fact I wasn't ready to take our friendship one step further. I'd disciplined myself to stop any thoughts of it before the temptation to try it again could take over.

Kate wasn't a woman to be messed with. She'd helped me interrogate a couple of murder suspects, and, my God, she'd made yelling at the airline employee about her missing luggage seem like she was singing the guys praises compared to how she treated those criminals. They'd squirmed in their seats as she pushed, goaded and prodded them into admitting things they'd really had no intention of divulging. She wasn't above using her feminine whiles to get her way either.

She was FBI through and through. I'd been around enough agents to know what that meant, and she filled the bill to a T. She was a tough cookie. While she might look all feminine and soft on the surface, she'd kick your ass if she had to. We'd gone to the shooting range a few times together, and her target sheet had been obliterated in nothing flat. I'd never admit it, but she'd been a better shot than me. The hardened, take-no-shit face I'd seen while she was shooting convinced me that if I ever messed with her, I might end up castrated.

Kate had many facets. You'd never guess the woman who was so great with my nieces and nephews was the same woman who shot that gun with a strength of purpose that held no gentleness or compassion.

I'd wondered how many people she'd killed in the line of duty?

I _still_ liked her. There was so little NOT to like. I knew if the feelings I had grew any deeper, I'd have to take an honest look at them, but I wasn't ready to push something into happening. I wasn't about to make a foolish move on something that would seal my fate to never be with Stephanie again.

Kate was leaving that day to go back to Boston to spend Christmas with her family. I wouldn't see her again until sometime in January. It was going to be a new year soon, and I hoped with all my heart it would bring me the happiness I'd always wanted— Stephanie.

I felt like I was inching closer to her every day. I'm not sure why, but the distance was closing, and I wasn't so angry or so hurt any longer. Maybe we'd be able to talk about everything soon.

Perhaps the New Year ahead could turn out to be the best time of our lives.

I allowed myself to imagine her becoming my wife at last. _Shit!_ It seemed like I'd been waiting for that moment forever. Realizing I hadn't even gotten to talk to her about her Morelli Moments Journal, I wondered if it hurt her I'd never mentioned it.

God time was flying by us.

How much longer would it be until we made it back to one another? The ball was completely in my court. She'd kept her word regarding her relationship with Ranger. He'd been gone a long time, and I'd have heard if there was anything worth reporting from the various and unlimited Burg and precinct gossips if she'd had contact with him.

The trust was building inside my heart. I wanted to trust her. I wanted to be able to look in her eyes and see there was NO reason to doubt her love ever again.

"Joe, I'm heading out now. I hope you have a Merry Christmas." Kate stood in the doorway to my office.

She was wearing a green wool skirt and a white silk blouse. She looked really pretty. It made me miss my girl.

When my beautiful Stephanie wore clothing like that, all I'd wanted to do was take it off of her. She was so damned sexy, and it oozed from her pores when she dressed so femininely. I'd do my best to get her down to just the heels and a smile.

It'd always taken gargantuan will power on my part to walk out the door and go on the damned date or to the event or whatever it was we were dressed up for. I'd just wanted to be inside her and be as close to her as I could get, although it had never been close enough. I'd always wanted more. With her I became insatiable. I bet she thought I'd been like that with every woman in my life. I hadn't.

Stephanie was the ONLY woman who'd ever made me feel that ravenous.

"Joe, are you okay?" Kate asked. "Your face is flushed, and you seemed to zone out."

I got to my feet. "Yeah, I'm fine—just tired as usual."

She moved toward me and handed me a present. I felt so badly because I'd never even given a thought to Christmas shopping.

"Oh Kate, I'm sorry. I haven't even shopped for my family yet."

"Don't worry about it. I wasn't expecting anything. I just wanted you to know how deeply grateful I am to you for the place to stay and your generous hospitality. It's been such an unexpected perk doing this job and getting to meet a great guy like you."

"Thanks. It's been nice getting to know you too. I hope you know how much I enjoy your upbeat attitude. It's a breath of fresh air around here."

Captain Michaels poked his ever-irritating head in. "Joe, could you do me a big favor? I was going to take Kate to the airport, but I just got word I need to be here for an important conference call from the Commissioner."

I resisted the urge to eye roll. There it was again—the Captain making sure I spent MORE time with Kate.

"I can take a cab," she offered apologetically.

"No, of course not. I'd be happy to drive you."

"Thanks, Joe. Now you see why I got you that present."

We were in the car at the airport in temporary parking. I'd slipped the present into my jacket pocket. Kate smiled when she noticed it peeking out.

"You can open it now if you want," she told me. We'd left plenty early for the airport and had time to spare.

"Okay." I took the package out and opened it to find a medal of St. Michael, the Archangel patriarch saint of protection.

I knew a lot of police officers that carried the medal as a lucky charm to keep them safe while in the line of duty. I'd gotten one from every female member of my family back when I'd joined the force.

I wasn't going to be rude and tell Kate. It was a sweet gesture on her part after all.

"Okay—so how many St. Michael's medals do you have?" Kate asked knowingly, her eyes twinkling.

"What? How did you know?" I blushed.

"Well I know you're Catholic and Italian, and probably you have like five hundred worried female relatives, including your mother."

I laughed at that. "So then why did you get me this one?"

"Because it's my wish for you to always be safe, and I had this one engraved. You'll know it's the _one_ from me. I wish you good luck too."

I turned over the medal and a small, perfect four-leaf clover symbol of Kate's Irish heritage was engraved on the back.

"Nice touch," I grinned. "This was really sweet of you—thanks. I'll carry it with me, because you never know."

"You don't, do you? I just want you to be safe and know you're appreciated, Joe— always."

"Kate, you know that I—"

"I know, but it doesn't stop me from wanting—you to be happy." She leaned toward me, kissing me tenderly on the cheek. "I'll see you in January."

My heart was really touched by her gesture of concern for me, and the kiss wasn't too much. It was just right.

"Merry Christmas," I smiled.

"You too. Try not to miss me too much." She winked.

Realizing I'd gotten to know her well enough to rely on the moments when I felt my spirits uplifted by her presence, I found I _would_ actually miss her.

Kate insisted she could handle her own suitcase, so with a wave good-bye, I waited until she disappeared inside before driving away.

Leaving the airport, I decided to call it an early day—early meaning dusk. My normal hours lately had gone way into the night, and I needed some R and R badly. There was a good chance I'd make it to bed and actually get a decent night's sleep. Sometimes during the days closer to Christmas even the murderers decided to give it a rest.

I didn't even realize what I was doing and soon found myself parked outside the Christmas tree lot where Stephanie always used to drag me to get a tree at the last possible moment.

I never understood what the big deal was. I mean—if she'd totally forgotten about it, why not just let it go? But something irrational in her would take over when it came to Christmas. She'd told me once that with cooking she'd imagine she was a great cook with the ability to make a bunch of fancy recipes all at once like her mom. She'd explained it was like thinking you could play the cello when you had NO clue how to play the cello. Even with lessons, it seemed like it would be a piece of cake, but it never was.

I wondered if she thought that about Christmas too—that she should just be able to blink and the whole nine yards—tree, wreath, stockings presents and bows—would magically appear. Then when it didn't, she'd go into a frenzied rush to get what she could at the last minute and would virtually throw the holiday together.

It didn't matter to me. Normally I would've let Christmas slip by unnoticed. But something in me wondered if Stephanie would come back to the house to see me over the holidays. Okay, I wished like a little kid pulling on the wishbone of a chicken she'd come by.

If she did, I wanted her to have that peaceful, warm, holiday moment with me that somehow Christmas always seemed to bring out in us. I guess I'd have to get a damned tree in order to make it happen. There were a bunch of assorted, weird decorations in my basement. They ought to be good for ONE half-ass decorated tree. Right?

So there I was, half crazy no doubt from fatigue and yearning for Steph, looking at stupid trees. I found myself wondering if she'd gotten her own by herself this year. I felt badly because dragging the damn thing home was no easy task. And Stephanie always picked the biggest, fullest, most aggravating-to-fit-through-the-damned-door-tree, she could find.

I took a long deep breath. Maybe me even thinking about getting a tree was a terrible idea. Did I even have the time to decorate the damned thing? It was two days before Christmas! It didn't feel like Christmas without her. She'd brought me the Holiday Spirit every year we'd spent together.

I'd never been big on Christmas. When you're in a big family like I was and with a mostly drunk, angry as hell father, holidays were not something to look forward to. I knew my parents struggled just to get gifts under the trees for us kids. We'd seldom gotten what we really wanted because they were never able to afford it. But we'd pretended that whatever was under the tree was exactly what we'd been hoping for. There was no way any of us kids had wanted to see my mother sad on Christmas.

"Joe?" I heard Steph's voice and figured I must be hallucinating.

I looked around, and there she was standing behind me.

"Hey Cupcake. Wait—don't tell me—you're just getting your tree now?" I gave her a playfully admonishing look.

"And don't tell ME you haven't gotten one yet? I have mine decorated and lit up like a—

She laughed, and I soon joined her. "Christmas Tree," we finished together, shaking our heads.

"I confess—I just haven't had time to get one. I wasn't even going to, but then I got to thinking about how we always did."

"Yeah, but I broke our tradition. I've had mine up for a few weeks. You're keeping the tradition alive though. Two days before Christmas—_nice_ Morelli."

I grinned and felt my fatigue disappear instantly. Who needed sleep when you had Steph around to re-energize you?

"I'll help you pick one out if you want. I just came by to get a few branches to put on the table at my parent's house."

"You have the time?" I asked, feeling the usual jump in my heart.

"Of course—you _know_ you need my expertise to pick out the right tree."

"For sure, Cupcake, because if you don't make it the biggest, barely-able to fit it in the room tree, then it's NOT the right one!" I teased her.

"Oh, you're just a whiner. You know you love the challenge," she ribbed back. I could feel the mutual happiness building as we made light of our normally squabbling natures.

"I'll make you a deal," I found myself offering.

"What kind of deal?"

"I'll buy the hot chocolate _and_ the cake if afterwards you come and help me decorate whatever monstrosity you pick out!"

Her smile grew, and her eyes moistened, shining like twinkling stars in the evening light. "You've got yourself a deal, Morelli."

Hearing Steph use my surname affectionately as she always used to had my heart feel like friggen' Christmas bells were chiming.

We picked out the tree and tied it to the top of my SUV, giggling like kids because naturally the tree had other ideas. It threatened to fall off more than once.

Luckily the Tasty Pastry stayed open late during the holidays, and as we walked there, the familiar zap hit my heart, knowing this was where Stephanie and I had first become _one _with each other. How perfect was it to be here with her now during the holidays?

Thankfully we'd resolved a lot of the previous tension regarding our teenage copulating efforts, so I felt free to enjoy the moment.

We took our favorite table, and the ghosts of young Steph and Joe could have been sitting next to us. Sharing the same look we'd communicated so many years ago, a fond reminiscent smile passed between us.

I picked up my hot chocolate mug and made a toast. "To the New Year and all the changes it will bring." We clinked mugs and drank a little, as the slices of decadent chocolate cake we'd ordered arrived. I groaned, "Oh man, this is chocolate _and_ sugar overload."

"Maybe, but you know you're going to need your energy to put the lights on the tree, Morelli. You know me and lights!" she said playfully.

"God, do I ever." _There were __never __enough lights._

Steph had always squinted and blurred her eyes while walking all around the tree, making damn sure every single opening was filled with glittery lights. I'd worry sometimes she'd overload a circuit and burn down either of our places, but she'd always become like a little girl again whenever we'd trim our tree. I'd loved seeing the child in her come out to play. We'd always ended up arguing humorously over how damn many lights I'd allow on my tree, and yet she'd always ended up winning.

Finally when all was finished, we'd place blankets or a quilt on the floor. Then we'd put on soft, instrumental, Christmas music and make slow, sweet love under the twinkling lights of the newly decorated tree.

I smiled while drinking in her lovely eyes and her gorgeous mouth, noticing the way her blouse clung to her breasts. She had me practically salivating. Having this unexpected time together was like an early Christmas present. We talked about our families and kept it all light and easy. I was excited to have her come home with me, yet I was afraid too—afraid she'd back out and change her mind.

We could only handle half the cake, so we got takeout boxes for the rest.

"Okay Morelli, you'd better get your elf ears on, because you've got a lot of work to do."

"You're still coming to my house, right?" I asked, not daring to take it for granted.

"A deal's a deal, isn't it?"

"Yeah." I grinned. This was more than I'd dared to dream— to have a whole evening by myself with the only person I wanted to be with in the entire World.

We took our separate vehicles. And as we made our way into the house, Bob howled and barked in canine delight. I headed down to the basement to bring up the boxes and smiled upon my return to see Stephanie with Bob.

She'd squatted down to pet and make the usual fuss over him, and—as was her tradition—she made him put up his paw to shake her hand in greeting. She'd taught him to shake and then to give her a high five afterward—how I'll never know. I seriously doubted Bob had that level of intelligence, but Steph had a way with him. The two of them had an understanding that mostly I didn't understand, but I loved the fact she could touch my crazy animal's heart so easily. That was my Stephanie—touching everyone's heart effortlessly.

We set to work, and I strung the lights as she ordered, even adding an extra string for good measure just to make her smile. And she did—right into my eyes. God, I loved her.

I wanted her to know what it meant to me. "You don't know how much I wanted to do this with you. I never imagined you'd be here tonight."

"I wanted to be here too," she confessed. "I don't even know what made me go out in this cold, awful weather, but something told me to get those branches tonight, and so I did."

"I miss you," I confided, putting my heart on the line. Usually, I'd take cover under the guise that Bob missed her. But there was no reason to pretend anymore. I missed her, and if Bob did too, he could damn well tell her himself.

"Rex misses you," Steph teased me. Her shining eyes confirmed the truth. She amended sweetly, "_I miss you_."

"You know I'm trying to be ready—for when.""

"I know. I'm here, Joe. Whenever you're ready, I'm here." Her eyes sparkled with promise.

"I uh—" My heart wanted to say NOW—I'm ready now—but I was still too scared to say it.

"I know. You're not there yet. But having this evening is so nice." Stephanie made it easy for me, so I wouldn't say something that might hurt her.

"It's a gift," I agreed. After a moment, I broke the bittersweet silence between us, "Well, are you ready to put the angel on the top?"

"Sure, but you're going to hold the ladder, right? Because—"

"Don't remind me. I remember the time I didn't, and both you and the tree fell over, scaring poor Bob half to death. That's why whenever we put it up now, he always cowers in the corner."

We laughed at "chicken-shit" Bob lying there with one paw held protectively over his face. He cried out softly, letting us know he was still very skeptical about us doing this every year. I think he half expected the tree to get up on legs and attack him.

I helped Steph up the ladder and handed her the angel. She put it up without incident, but as she bent to climb down, her boot heel caught on the ladder rung causing her to stumble off the ladder and straight into my arms. The impact of me trying to catch her sent us both sprawling to the floor. I tried to cushion her fall and ended up being the one on my back with Stephanie lying tantalizingly over me.

The body contact had me feeling like I was on fire. I didn't want to move, and she was looking at me with that "I-got-to-have- you-now" look. I couldn't stop the heat traveling through me, centering in the happy zone. It would only be a matter of seconds before we'd shed our clothing and resume my most favorite Christmas-tree-decorating tradition.

Stephanie's body rose slightly over mine, and my eyes were distracted from hers for a moment as the glint of a silver chain around her neck escaped to dangle loosely in front of my eyes. Seeing what it held took my breath away. I swallowed hard, lifting the ring up with my pinky finger. _She was wearing it!_

I tried to sound nonchalant. "Wow—haven't see this in awhile."

Steph made a move to get up, and I released the ring so as not to break it off the silver chain. She seemed embarrassed and ill at ease.

"I know I don't have the right to be wearing it, Joe—"

"I didn't mean it that way, but why are you?" I asked, suddenly feeling both curious and hopeful.

She rested her back against the sofa, and I got into a sitting position so I could look into her eyes.

"I—It makes me feel hopeful and closer to you," she confessed in a rush. "I'm sorry. I just miss you sometimes, and—"

"I miss you too, Cupcake."

"I know you only gave it to me in friendship—"

"That was bullshit, and you know it!" I told her, shaking my head adamantly. "I wasn't sure you even liked it."

"Of course I liked it! It was the sweetest thing you've ever given me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you that at the time. I loved the fact you took the time to choose something so beautiful and unusual just for me."

"I gave it to you, because I wanted to give you—well, you know. You didn't want an engagement ring, so I figured if I said friendship, you wouldn't go crazy on me."

She smiled sheepishly. "I guess I did that a lot."

"Yeah, a fair share of the time, but I did too. "It's funny. You used the words beautiful and unique to describe it earlier. That's exactly why I chose it, because that's how I think of you."

"Why didn't you say that to me then?

"Because, Cupcake, I was always so fucking afraid to scare you away! It was Christmas, and the last thing I wanted you to do was run. I didn't want to pressure you. I just wanted you to wear something that showed we were in a relationship. And for the record, there was more than friendship in my heart when I bought it _and_ when I gave it to you."

"I know you couldn't say it because of all the repercussions you knew would come from me. And I didn't wear it because when you said it was just _friendship_, it hurt me. You may not have meant to hurt me, but it still felt like you were backing away. That's why I said "not yet" about the engagement. I didn't want you to think I never wanted it."

"I was afraid. When the wedding plans went up in smoke, I wasn't sure where we stood at all."

"Well I never was good at understanding that either."

"We're such idiots!" Joe smirked. "I'm glad you're wearing it."

"I put it on to feel closer to you. I feel like you're with me when I wear it. I did it to show my faith and my commitment to wait for you."

My eyes filled. I couldn't help it. It was Christmas, and I felt like Stephanie had handed me the very thing I wanted more than anything in the world. "I _am_ with you Cupcake— never doubt it."

"I know, and _I'm_ with you too," she responded softly.

"I took out my wallet and showed her the picture. "This makes me feel like you're near me."

She smiled, and we shared a sweet, silent moment back to that time in Point Pleasant.

"I love you, Cupcake. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Joe. I love you too," she whispered softly.

"Every Christmas present should be wrapped in a bow and sealed with a kiss." I smiled lovingly, as she took my words to heart. We slowly leaned into one another and shared a kiss filled with the promise of a future.

I hadn't dared express that sentiment to her in the moments when I'd given her the ring. I remembered her hand shaking as I'd slid it on her finger. I remembered seeing the sadness—both in her eyes and her smile—the day I'd put it there. I was so afraid I'd gone too far, yet it turned out I hadn't gone far enough.

"You wanted the ring to mean more, and it did to me, Steph. It was a promise of much more to come."

"Does it still mean that?" she looked warily at me for clarification.

"Of course it does. I love that you're wearing it. If you want, you can wear it on your finger."

"No. I won't do that until you place it there again when you're ready."

I smiled. "Okay, I like the sound of that."

"Until then though, it stays right where it is."

The time was close. I knew in my heart I wanted our separation to end. I had to take a chance on believing in us before any more time was wasted, seeing as no one ever knew how much time they really had in this world.

"After we bring in the New Year, you and I need to have a long overdue talk and make some decisions about where we go next."

"_We_?"

"Yeah—_we_." My fingers traced a path down her cheek.

She smiled in the dazzling way that always made my heart skip a few beats from the sheer pleasure of witnessing it.

"I can't wait for the New Year."

"Neither can I."

"You promise, right?" she asked me with imploring eyes.

"I promise. We'll have that talk, Cupcake, and I hope it brings us both everything we want in the New Year."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**This is a rare thing two chapters in one week. I actually wrote most of Christmas and New Years together. It would have been the longest chapter ever so we broke it into two. Thanks for sticking with me through the never-ending story. Just kidding it will end eventually, I promise.**

**Carol, Talk about Wonder Woman! You are so amazing at writing, beta and being the perfect advisor and friend to have for this writing adventure. Thank you! **

**Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing it is much appreciated. **

**Steph's POV**

I'd felt the Christmas Spirit big time after having tree night together with Joe at his place. Kate hadn't even been part of the discussion. I didn't bring her up and, thank God, neither did he!

I'd never been so anxious for a New Year to arrive in my life. Throughout the years, I'd mostly dreaded New Years because it'd meant making useless promises to myself I never kept. My tune changed with the promise of Joe and I reuniting possibly very soon. Every time I thought about the New Year coming all I could say was _BRING IT ON_!

This year Eddie and Shirley had invited me to their house for a party on the big night. I wasn't sure if I should go or not. What if Joe showed up at my apartment to talk to me? But he'd said the talk would take place after we'd brought in the New Year so maybe it would be the next day or even the next week.

I knew I needed to go to the party because Eddie had been so good to me. He'd been a constant, loving friend to me and not going would be selfish. I wondered if Joe would be there and hoped with all my heart he would. I wanted him to be the one I kissed as the clock struck twelve, signaling a New Year and a new us!

Deciding to shop for a new dress, I knew I'd found the right one the moment I saw it. It was a slinky metallic in purple, silver and black with a scooped neck and a low v-shaped plunging back. Purple, black and silver jeweled stilettos made the perfect ensemble, guaranteed to make Joe go crazy and hopefully throw his "after New Year's" plan out of the water! I couldn't help but remember the purple shoes that had been destroyed in the firebombing of my apartment years ago. Joe had been so disappointed when he'd learned they were gone. He'd had big plans for those shoes. Well he could make new ones with these!

He was obviously struggling with his feelings, and as patient as I'd vowed to be, I knew if the opportunity presented itself, I wouldn't hold back! I'd been holding back for far too long, and this mess would never have happened if I'd just allowed myself the freedom to be in love with Joe—to fully show it, own it and Goddamn well enjoy it!

I was grateful Vinnie at least closed shop on Christmas and New Years Day which had allowed me the whole day to prepare for the evening ahead. Piling my hair up in soft curls and allowing a few sexy tendrils to escape, I'd put on black and silver rhinestone earrings to accessorize my outfit. Reluctantly I took the silver chain holding my ring from around my neck and put it in a little velvet bag in my purse.

I'd grown used to having it on, and I missed the warmth of it against my skin. If Joe was there at the party, I decided it would make an appearance later for a very private New Year's moment.

My stomach fluttered nervously. I was so looking forward to seeing Joe there, yet I had no idea if he was even planning to come. I knew I shouldn't set my hopes so high, but I couldn't help it. I wondered what he'd wear. He looked absolutely drop dead gorgeous in a suit. He'd been told many times by the guys he looked like a mafia boss whenever he wore one, but they were just being jealous! Joe had always been movie star handsome. I'd always been so proud to be on his arm whenever we attended public events together.

Oh how other women envied me! I'd notice their hushed whispers and how their eyes were glued to him as they drooled. If that happened tonight, I'd say, back off ladies—he's all mine—and that includes you Kate O'Grady! What kind of a silly name was that anyway? It sounded like something out of a nursery rhyme.

I'd finally wormed her last name out of one of the waitresses at Pino's whom I knew from school. Kate had paid with her credit card. I had my ways and means of getting information. If Joe's little "liking" fling continued, I was going to investigate Kate. There had to be something that wasn't perfect about her. _N__o one is_ _that_ perfect.

Grabbing my long black wool coat, I headed out the door. I hoped this would be the first of many evenings to remember. My being back with Joe in the New Year was definitely my only resolution.

**Joe's POV**

I worked up till eight o'clock and barely had time to race home to get ready for the party at Eddie's. He'd assured me Steph was going to be there, and I wanted to see her and be with her at midnight more than anything.

Standing in the mirror to survey the damage, I decided I didn't look too shabby and all in thirty minutes or less. I'd chosen a black suit with a crisp white shirt and decided to go the whole nine yards with a matching silvery grey and black tie. Steph had always told me I looked sexy whenever I wore a suit. Loving and pleasing her were my only New Year's resolutions.

I was just about to walk out the door when I heard an insistent knock.

Opening the door, I found Kate standing there wearing a white faux fur coat. Her coppery hair was up, a little curlier than usual. She wore fancy emerald drop earrings, and I could see a very glittery necklace peeking out from the V-neck of her coat.

"Kate? I didn't expect you back until next week!"

"I know, but Eddie invited me to the party, and I decided last-minute to fly back early."

"Oh—I didn't know. That was nice of you."

"I just wanted to make sure you weren't going to spend the New Year home alone sulking."

"I don't sulk—much," I amended with a grin.

"Well it looks like you're planning to go to Eddie's too. You look really handsome tonight."

"Thanks, you look very nice too." I wondered what I should do. If I offered to take her with me, then Steph might see us arrive together and believe she was my date. I hesitated.

"I have a rental car, Joe. I felt badly you were turned into my personal chauffeur last time. But maybe you wouldn't mind if I followed you? I've never been to Eddie's."

"Sure—sounds great. I know a shortcut. We won't even have to take the freeway. But first I've got to go pick up some ice. I promised Eddie I'd bring some. He says they always run out. I'll just lock up, and then we'll be on our way."

"That's fine. I'll be in my car waiting."

As the door shut on Kate, I took a deep sigh of relief.

"Okay Bob—you be a good boy, and if we're really lucky, this should be one of the last evenings that it's just you and me. I think Stephanie and Rex will be coming home to us very soon."

Bob barked approvingly. I was tempted to try the shake hands—high- five thing with him, but I was pretty sure he had that reserved for Stephanie only.

I headed out the door, looking forward to the evening ahead.

**Steph's POV**

I pounded my fist on the steering wheel. Of all the damned times to have Big Blue act like a normal car! Half way to Eddie's, the indestructible car from hell had chosen tonight of all nights to sputter and spew smoke and then stop dead! It wasn't out of gas, so what the hell happened? This car had survived fires, bombs and crashes, and now, on the biggest night of my life, it dies! This could only happen to me.

_What the hell!_ It was dark, freezing cold and my dressy wool coat wasn't going to keep me warm for very long. I hit the speed dial on my phone. _Please Joe pick up!_

His home phone rang and rang. Finally after about the twentieth ring, I heard a clunk and then some funny sounding plaintive howls. Oh my God, Bob answered the phone! "Bob, tell your Daddy I'm on the phone."

He barked.

"Bob, can you hear me? It's Stephanie. Bob, is Joe there?

I was actually talking to a dog over the phone hoping to get Joe to pick me up. What was wrong with this picture? Unless Bob had his own car and had recently gotten his license, I wasn't going to be rescued any time soon.

I could try flagging down a car, but it was New Year's Eve. Who was going to stop and give me a ride when they had their own big plans for the evening? With my luck, if someone did stop, it would no doubt be a serial killer, gang member or axe murderer—more likely all three.

I tried Joe's cell phone, but the damned recording said his message box was full. _Shit!_ Who the hell could I call? I could try Mary Lou, but she and Lenny were probably having a hard enough time getting to the party seeing as it took an Act of God to coordinate leaving their kids with a sitter.

My parents were at a party at the lodge, and Grandma Mazur would have to use a bike to pick me up. I was pretty sure she'd gone out with her latest honey anyway, and had probably been driven by a seventy-year-old friend of _his._

Finally I gave up and called Eddie's house. Shirley the whiner, and also my dear cousin, answered.

"Hello, Shirley?"

"Steph? Where are you? Speak up. I can't hear you!"

"I'm stuck. Big Blue stalled, and I need a ride. Is Joe there?" I asked hopefully.

"Big Blue! Why on earth are you still driving that old antique? Don't you think it's time to get something newer? I know you can't seem to keep a car for very long, but still—"

"Shirley, please listen. I need a ride. It's getting really cold, and I'm on the off ramp to the freeway heading toward your house."

"Oh good—you're coming! It's about time. Everyone's been here for a while. A bunch of people were wondering where you were, so you'd better get here pretty soon. Joe just arrived with that gorgeous redhead. You don't want him to be alone with her for too long. Isn't she something! Have you ever seen such long legs? Makes the rest of us look like pudgy old ladies. Women like that should NOT be allowed to wear such short dresses."

"Joe's there?" My ears had to be deceiving me. Joe was there with HER? Shit—my nightmare might be coming true!

"Yeah, he just arrived. I'll tell him you're in trouble. If I know Joe, he'll be there by your side in no time. It's such an awfully cold night. I don't know why Eddie insisted we have this party. I mean who wants to be caught dead out in this weather? Don't worry, I'll tell Joe."

"No! Shirley—"

"Gotta go, Steph. Someone's stuffing too much toilet paper down the toilet, and I'm afraid we're going to have a flood. I hate having this many people over at once, but you know Eddie, even the strangers on the corner are his friends. Don't you worry— Joe will be there in no time."

She hung up.

Oh God, he was at the party with Kate. And Shirley was going to have Joe come and get me. Great. This wasn't embarrassing at all. Suddenly it dawned on me maybe the reason Joe wanted to wait till after the New Year to have our talk was because he'd already had this date planned.

Jesus, he was dating her and expecting to get back together with me right after? Okay, maybe I was getting ahead of myself. Maybe there was a perfectly logical explanation. But what if he brought Kate with him to rescue me? Wouldn't that just be peachy?

I was on the lookout for Joe when a sleek, black Porsche pulled over to the side of the road in front of me. My heart skipped a beat. None of Ranger's men would be in that Porsche. There was only one member of Rangeman who drove it.

He knocked on my window.

I bit my lip. I'd forgotten the tracker on Big Blue. Someone at Rangeman must have noticed I'd pulled over for an unusually long time. _Shit!_ Why couldn't Tank or Cal or one of the other guys have come to my rescue? It had been over four months since I'd laid eyes on Ranger. Rolling down the window, I forced a sheepish smile.

"Hey there."

"Babe."

"How did you get elected to check the radar out?"

"I volunteered," he answered stoically.

"Oh."

Gulp.

He looked dark and mysterious as ever. And yes, he was sexy to the hilt. But I felt none of the old temptation, and after such a long absence I was pleasantly surprised and happy by that realization. It just proved I _had been_ running away from Joe, and while I loved Ranger in _my own_ way, I'd never really been _in love_ with him.

"So you're having trouble with Big Blue?"

"Yeah—it sputtered and let off some smoke. It's never acted up like this in all the years I've driven it." I got out of the car and stood in the cold, beginning to shiver instantly.

"Well it chose a good night," Ranger said with a hint of a smile.

"Tell me about it. I'm on my way to a party at Eddie Gazarra's house."

Ranger reached out to open my coat. He let out a low, wolfish whistle. "Babe." His low smoky voice told me what the monosyllabic endearment meant. Normally I needed an interpreter.

"Thanks." I quickly pulled the coat closed. It was fricken' cold outside, and Ranger's demeanor was a little unsettling.

"Why didn't you call Morelli?" he asked.

"I did. He wasn't home, and his message box is full on his cell."

"Doesn't he have the decency to drive you himself?"

"I called Shirley, Eddie's wife, and she said she'd tell him I needed help."

"I don't get it. If you're both going to the same party, why didn't he escort you?"

"Ranger, we're not together—yet." I amended quickly lest he get the wrong idea.

"You don't say?" Ranger seemed surprised.

"How have you been?" I asked, trying to change the subject. I wanted him to leave. If Joe was coming, the last thing I needed was for him to see me with Ranger.

"Okay," he answered non-enlighteningly.

"Good."

"And you?"

"Fine," I answered equally as vague.

"So why don't you let me give you a ride to the party? I'll have one of the guys take care of Big Blue for you."

"Thanks, but Joe's probably on his way. As for Big Blue, I'd really appreciate it." As soon as I said the words, I regretted them. "I mean—you don't have to. I could call a tow truck to come." I didn't want to owe Ranger anything. The feeling that I owed him had brought on a lot of excuses for my past reckless, crazy behavior.

"And you think you're going to find someone tonight or tomorrow who would be willing and sober enough to help you?"

"I guess you're right. Thanks—if you really don't mind," I relented gratefully.

"I don't. Now let's get you out of the cold. You're shivering."

I stood there hesitating. "I think Joe is coming for me. He'll be here any minute."

"Well get in my car. It's warm—at least until he gets here."

"I can't."

"What in the hell do you mean you can't? Why the hell not! Would Morelli prefer you to freeze to death rather than spend a moment alone with me in my car?"

I bit my lip, weighing the answer to that question.

"For God's sake, Stephanie, get in the car!" Ranger ordered. I shook my head.

He grabbed my arm and sternly led me toward the passenger side, but I was wearing the damned stilettos and slipped. Ranger caught me against his body and held me there for a moment. My arms wrapped around his torso in an instantaneous, reflexive motion.

Of course that was the moment Joe's SUV came to a screeching halt behind Big Blue. I jumped out of Ranger's arms, but it was too late. I heard the thundering slam of Joe's car door.

"Well I guess you didn't need me after all. Looks like Ranger has _everything_ under control as usual." Joe's voice was thick with sarcasm.

He stood there with his hands on his hips, his eyes holding the same betrayal as months ago when he'd first walked away from me that morning in my apartment.

It didn't help that Ranger still had an arm around me.

"Joe, it _isn't_ what it looks like."

"It _never_ is, Stephanie. I suppose it's NOT your fault either."

He shook his head at me, and I could see his bitter disappointment. Staring down at his snazzy, black dress shoes, he was probably biting his lip and counting to a hundred.

"Morelli, she's telling you the truth. I just came to check to see if she was okay."

"Why?" He looked up, and I could see he was spitting mad.

"Her car was pulled off the road. Our tracking device showed it, and I came to check it out."

"Isn't it _amazing _that you always know when to show up. I can't fucking believe you're still tracking her, and why in the hell did_ you_ show up? I thought you were long gone into the wind."

"I blew back," Ranger answered with a hardened voice.

"So you did. Isn't it great, Steph, to have Batman rescue you yet again!"

"I tried calling you, but your voice box was filled. What the hell was I supposed to do? Would you rather I freeze to death than take a ride from Ranger?"

"Rides from Ranger come at quite a cost," Joe noted in a snarky tone.

I was livid and hurt. "Go back to the party, Joe, I don't need _your_ help."

"Or _anything_ else," he added. Turning on his heel, he got into his SUV and headed back in the direction of Eddie's house.

"Well he was in a hurry to leave." Ranger commented. "Do you want me to take you home, Babe?"

I wanted to cry. All the progress Joe and I had made had just fallen by the wayside. I understood now how it must have felt for him to find me in Ranger's arms, but it had all been so innocent. He'd been unwilling to even listen to anything I had to say. The trust _was_ gone. Without it, we had nothing. Those had been Joe's words.

Nothing had changed.

"Come on, Babe. Let's get you out of the cold."

He helped me into his car, and I sat there staring straight ahead in shock. What in the hell had just happened?

Ranger got into the driver's seat.

"You okay, Babe?" he asked.

"We were so close," I murmured.

"That was close?" Ranger asked sarcastically.

"I want to go to the party at Eddie's."

"Why? So Morelli can fight with you in front of all the guests?"

"No, I have to make him see that nothing is going on between you and me."

"Not by my choice," Ranger informed me, his eyes raking over me as if he'd like to see me naked.

"Ranger, please just take me to Eddie's."

"I think you're making a big mistake."

"I _love_ him."

"And where is it getting you? It's been months! Is he still punishing you for your time with me?"

"No, he's trying with all his heart to forgive me and trust me after my betrayal of him."

"Well he has a funny way of showing it. I didn't see much forgiveness in his eyes tonight!"

"He's hurt."

"Ah, poor Morelli! Babe, come on. He's a big boy. When's he going to grow up and see what he has?"

"You couldn't possibly understand. Joe's vulnerable. I made him that way. He's in pain, Ranger. Pain you and I caused."

Ranger shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Fine—you want to go help Morelli lick his wounds? I'll take you to him."

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Ranger huffed as he drove toward the freeway.

Ten minutes later we were sitting in the car outside Eddie's house.

"You don't have to go in." Ranger turned toward me, and his hand reached out to grasp my arm as if to hold me back.

"I do."

"Stephanie, it might be best if you keep your distance from Morelli for a while longer."

I went on the defensive. "Why? What does that even mean?"

"It means he's pretty upset. You'd be better off cooling your heels for a bit. Speaking of which, those are some sexy heels, Babe."

I ignored the compliment, because I'd worn them for Joe alone.

"I don't see how letting more time and distance come between us will help."

"You just don't know everything about Morelli—" Ranger's tone grated on my nerves.

"Where's this coming from?"

"He's a man, and men need to chill when they get angry—especially him!"

"What? I know him better than anyone, and, yes, he's quick to anger, but he mellows out pretty fast as well."

"Whatever—go in there and have a great time. I'm sure Morelli will be putty in your hands."

"Thanks for the ride."

"You're welcome. Let me walk you in. It could be slippery."

"NO! I'll manage. Thanks so much for coming to my rescue." I could only imagine Joe's face if Ranger accompanied me into the house.

"It's a habit I don't know how to break," Ranger admitted. His hand was still resting on my arm.

"I don't know what to say."

"You love Morelli."

"Yes."

"I wish you the best then, Babe."

"Thanks, but I'm not sure Joe will even listen to me."

"Then he's a fool."

"Bye Ranger."

"Happy New Year, Babe."

"You too."

Before I realized it, Ranger pulled me to him and kissed me passionately but gently on the lips.

I tried pushing him away, but he held on tightly, whispering, "I'm here if it doesn't work out again."

He released his hold, and I got out of the car, feeling more than a little shaky between the cold and Ranger's unwanted kiss. Turning toward the front path, I had no idea what to expect inside the house.

I walked into the crowd at Eddie's and immediately searched the room for Joe.

Eddie came up and offered to take my coat.

Nodding gratefully as I removed it, I felt someone's eyes on my back and turned to find Joe right behind me.

His Adams' apple contracted, and I heard the sharp intake of his breath. His deep ebony eyes bore into mine. It wasn't the look I'd been going for when I'd chosen the dress.

"_Nice kiss_," Joe said gratingly through his teeth.

_Oh my God—he'd seen Ranger kiss me._

"What do you care? You didn't even bother to hear an explanation from me. Instead you chose to think the worst. Fine, Morelli—go ahead!" I was so despondent over the turn this evening had taken I wanted to give up!

"I cared way too much!" Joe's regretful voice penetrated my heart.

"Well then stop it! It's just a complete waste of your precious time!"

"Good advice," he said as he spun around and headed straight for Kate, who looked sexy as hell in her short, clingy emerald green dress. _Shit! _She'd look good in sack cloth and friggen' ashes. Hell, I bet she'd look gorgeous tarred and feathered—an image that held great appeal.

Joe seemed engrossed in his conversation with her, and I didn't give a damn. I marched over to him and grabbed his arm.

"I'd like to talk to you in private if you can tear yourself away from your _date_!" I felt seething anger inside me rising.

"We said all we needed to say!" Joe jerked his arm away.

"No—_I _haven't. I want a word with you _now_, or I'll make a scene." What scene would be I had no idea. Maybe I'd yell fire and throw a bowl of punch at Kate's head. There was no telling what I'd do next.

"Fine!" It felt like the anger was detonating inside of him too and was about to blow at any minute.

He took my elbow and guided me up the stairs.

We ended up the kid's playroom. The irony of the happy, colorful playthings surrounding us in that most seriously bleak moment was laughable, so why did I want to cry?

"Say what you have to say so I can get back to my—"

"You're what? You're little "like" infatuation!"

"Sure—why the hell not?" Joe's hands were on his hips, and I could tell if I didn't talk fast, he'd stride right back down the stairs. I couldn't help noticing how drop dead gorgeous he looked. It made me even angrier that things had gotten so out of control.

"Fuck it all, Joe. Ranger just showedup. I didn't call him. In fact, I forgot I even had the damned tracker on my car. I haven't used it in ages. And furthermore, _HE_ kissed me—not the other way around."

"I didn't see you stopping it!"

"It was a peck—NOT a kiss."

"Right. Like it was a poke and not really sex when you slept with him?"

"Oh for God's sake, what the hell do I have to do to prove I love you?"

"I don't think you can anymore. All the reasons I'm having such a fucking struggle over my feelings for you came back in force tonight!"

"I didn't even know he was back in town."

"Really—well he made damn sure to show up at just the right time, didn't he? He's _always_ going to show up and be lurking every single time something goes off between us. I can't live that way."

"I can't either."

"You don't ever tell him to stop."

"I know you're hurting, Joe, but please listen to me. _Nothing_ is going on between Ranger and me. I slipped on the ice and nearly fell. He caught me, and I held on to him! You drove up just after it happened. I'm completely _innocent_."

"Until proven guilty. What about that kiss? What do you call that? Did you slip on the floor mat and fall into his arms in the car too?"

"You won't believe anything I say! So much for you being ready for _us_ again!

"I don't think I'm ever going to be _there _as long as he exists in your life."

"That's so wrong, Joe. You know you're nearly there now."

"Amazing what a little flash of the past will do."

"I can't believe you're giving into this insane jealousy. I tell you over and over again YOU are the man I love, and you can't even give me the benefit of the doubt!"

"Oh I doubt you plenty!" Morelli barked at me.

"See? You're never going to trust me. It doesn't fucking matter how much I do to gain it back. The minute he's around you'll always remember what we did!"

"My fucking God, Stephanie—he's in love with you. He'll stop at NOTHING to have you. How in the hell am I supposed to forget that!"

"You can forget it because he won't have me. I don't want him!"

"You _let_ him kiss you! So excuse me if that rings as false as this damned New Year's reunion we were supposed to have!"

"Go to HELL, Morelli!" I yelled. The old defense machinery was firmly back in place.

"NO! You go there! I've been there long enough because of you! I'm fucking done!"

_He was done with me?_ He couldn't mean that! We were supposed to reunite _not_ disintegrate!

"NO! Joe, NO! We were supposed to have a talk, and everything was going to be new." All my bravado fell quickly. "Let's have that talk NOW—_Please_!"

"I can't. Seeing you in his arms again brought it all back, as if it had just happened yesterday. I can't!" His eyes were tortured, and I felt my world exploding.

"You're making a big mistake." I felt so hurt. I'd tried so damned hard to show him how much I loved him, and in one split second, it'd all turned upside-down again!

I started to cry. "You're never going to let this go."

"I'm not the one who doesn't let it go. You are."

"Joe, you're not being fair."

"Maybe I'm not to you, but to _me_ I am. I've gone through hell for too fucking long, and now I just want it to stop."

"You don't mean that!"

"I do. I'm going after what's _real_. You and this damn game you play pitting me between you and Ranger is _OVER_!"

"He walked away, heading down the stairs, and guess who was standing there waiting for him.

Kate.

Fucking, beautiful, perfectly nauseating KATE!

It was a half hour before midnight, but for Morelli the clock struck twelve early. He pulled her into his arms, and she joyfully returned his kiss—in fact kisses. My heart sputtered and died.

He pulled away and looked up at me as I made my way down the stairs. My legs were shaking so badly I could barely negotiate the steps.

He gave me a look that said, "_see what you're_ _missing_" and resumed kissing Kate as if I didn't even exist. And I guess for him I no longer did. My throat constricted, and I felt white-hot anger mix with livid, green-eyed jealousy. I couldn't believe the beautiful night I'd dreamed of had vanished. I watched the two of them wrapped in each other's arms while mine felt bereft and empty.

Watching Joe take someone else into his arms and merely kiss her annihilated me. _He_ had to think of me actually _giving myself completely_ to Ranger. It brought home with a swift punch to the gut what I'd done to him with my behavior. How could I have done that to _Joe_! God! The consequences of my unfaithfulness would never end.

I wondered if Kate and Joe would go back to his place and continue with their blatant, sexually charged encounter. Evidently "like" had moved into LUST!

I tried telling myself it was the pain and lack of trust that had caused him to kiss her. He loved me! He wanted me! He was jealous and felt my betrayal as if it were new. It was all I could do not to go over there and pull Kate out of his arms.

Eddie's hand rested comfortingly on my shoulder. "He told me about finding you with Ranger. He's hurting, Steph, and now I guess he's retaliating. That's not like Joe. What in the hell happened?"

I quickly explained.

"He needs time," Eddie sighed, shaking his head.

"More like he needs to get his tongue a little deeper down Kate's throat!"

"He's just not thinking straight. He was really happy about tonight and looking forward to being here with you."

"And you think I wasn't? The damned car broke down! I didn't ask for any of this!" I felt tears choking my throat. "I need to go home."

"I'll take you."

"No Eddie—I don't want to put you out. You have guests. Shirley will kill you if you leave. I'll just get a cab."

Waiting for the cab, I saw Joe leave.

Alone.

There was no way in hell this night was going to end on this sour of a note. I feared if I let it, the whole New Year's promise we'd dreamed of would go down the tubes. Joe would sleep with Kate, and I'd never be as forgiving as he'd attempted to be. No way in hell would I take him back! Sad but true—I was a total hypocrite.

And now I knew what a sweet, loving heart Joe had. He was trying so hard to give me the chance I'd begged for, and I'd blown it. He was right. I should have shoved and kicked and slapped Ranger for taking liberties I wasn't willing to give him any longer.

I had the cab take me to Joe's.

I didn't knock. I could see him petting Bob through the window. He'd discarded his suit jacket, and he looked exhausted. A sporty green car drove up, and I saw Kate in the driver's seat.

Marching back down the walk, I put up a hand to stop Kate as soon as she began to get out.

"No! Joe won't need your services. Look—I'm sorry you're grieving for your dead husband, and I'm sure Joe is quite a catch to you, but let me tell you something Kate. He and I are going to be together. He wants it, and so do I."

"It didn't feel that way to me when we kissed at the party," Kate returned with a phony baloney smile.

"I don't give a shit how it felt! He kissed you to get back at me! So whatever little romantic lust filled plan you have going to lure him from me is over. Please go back to wherever you came from and leave Joe alone."

"I don't take orders from you, Stephanie, and I wouldn't be so sure you know what Joe wants anymore. I think the thing he'd like most is a woman who would be faithful!"

"You don't know anything about me or Joe!"

"I know women like you who don't appreciate what you have until you LOSE IT!"

I made a move to grab the door handle. I wanted to pull her out by the roots of her scarlet hair!

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM JOE!"

Kate was strangely silent.

"DO YOU HEAR WHAT I'M SAYING!"

"I think the _entire_ neighborhood heard it." Joe's voice was thick with anger. He stood behind me with his arms folded protectively across his chest.

I turned around, taking in his rigid jaw line and his smoldering ebony eyes.

His nosy neighbors were poking their heads out of windows and opening their doors. The droning sounds of buzzing gossip filled the air. I hadn't realized I was yelling that loudly.

"I was only coming over to make sure Joe was okay." Kate said softly.

"Well you can see that he is, so leave!" I don't know what the hell was pushing me to be so bitchy, but no longer cared. I wanted to try to salvage something of this night that was supposed to be so happy yet had turned totally hellacious.

"Stephanie, Kate's been nothing but good to me. Don't speak to her that way."

"She's been nothing but _AFTER_ you."

"Kate, I'm sorry, I think Steph and I better take this inside.

"It's fine, Joe. I'll see you soon."

"No, you won't!" I told her, willing to go ten rounds if it came to that.

"_Stephanie_!" Joe's voice was seething.

"What? You won't tell her to back off? You want me to do that with _him_! Well then I want you to tell _her_! Fair is Fair!"

"It's _not_ the same thing."

"Oh really? Isn't it? Putting your tongue down her throat, liking her and being attracted to her isn't the same as cheating when all the while you're telling me you love me."

"No, because you and I are NOT together _anymore._" Joe said it with such, enunciated finality it wrenched my soul.

Little Ms. Perfect chose that moment to chime in.

"Stephanie, you caused this yourself. I had NOTHING to do with it. You treated a great guy like a doormat under your feet. If you've lost him, you have ONLY yourself to blame." Kate left her parting shot then drove away.

I punched at the air and shouted obscenities after her car. I was out of control. The whole evening had turned into something worse than my nightmares.

"You got the attention of everyone on the street. Are you happy now?" Joe swiped at the hair of his aggravatingly handsome head.

"No, I am _not_ happy—not by a long shot, Morelli!" He grabbed my hand and hauled me kicking and swearing up the steps into his house.

"Okay, you're here. Say whatever else it is you have to say and then get the hell out of my life."

"_No, that is not happening, do you hear me_?"

He rolled his eyes.

"I am going to do something I've never done before, Joe, and nothing you say or do is going to stop me!"

"Oh yeah? This I have to hear."

"I'm going to _fight_ for you with everything I am and everything I have. The old me would have NEVER come near you again after seeing you kiss Kate tonight. The NEW Steph isn't going anywhere. You will have to hire a crane to take me away, because, Morelli, I am NOT leaving here until we fix this!"

His eyes softened as I said those words. I knew I was getting to him.

"Why?" he asked doubtfully.

"Because—you stupid idiot—_I love you_! I can't even believe how far this night has gone into the crapper from where it was supposed to go! We were this close, Joe."

I held up two fingers with no space between them.

"Well now we're this close." He held his arms as far apart as he could.

I threw off my coat. I hadn't even thought about it when I'd put the necklace back on in the cab. I'd just known I wasn't going to take NO anymore. I'd taken "no" far too easily in the past. He was worth fighting for. He needed to know that I thought so.

Seeing him kiss Kate hadn't sent me running with my tail between my legs. It had sent me into hot pursuit. A cop should know what that meant better than anyone.

Joe's mouth fell open as he noticed my appearance for the first time. He took in my sexy dress, and his eyes went straight to my heels. He loved me in sexy heels and nothing else. Then the eyes returned to another of his favorite parts of my body, and he took a step closer. He swallowed hard and took in the necklace dangling between my partially exposed breasts.

"You're so beautiful," he said in a murmur that sounded a little more like a long-suffering groan.

"I'm here for YOU, Joe—only you."

"NO!" He backed away just as quickly as he'd advanced. "I don't trust you. You let him kiss you."

"I'm sorry. I know I did—but NOT because I wanted to. It just happened. I tried to push him away, but maybe a part of me needed to know I was truly over him. And I was—I am! I didn't feel a _damned _thing! I just wanted to get inside to you and straighten out this entire mess of an evening."

"You must have had doubts about your feelings for _me_ if you needed to have him kiss you in order to know your feelings for _him_."

"_I didn't expect it._ He took me by surprise. I was getting out of the car to come to you. If you'd just listened to me when you found me on the highway, you'd have been the one bringing me there! It never would have happened!"

"So now it's MY fault! God, that's rich!" Joe threw his arms in the air. His temper was about to reach boiling.

"That's not what I meant. Why are you twisting my words?"

"Why are you always twisting my heart into knots!" Joe asked, shaking his head.

"I didn't _want_ this to happen." Tears poured from my eyes. "We were supposed to have—" I gulped on a hard sob.

Joe stood rock still.

"This night was supposed to be about US! I wanted to be with _you _more than anything! I chose this dress for you, and—my damned car broke down—" My words were a jumbled mess. "I didn't _ask_ for this to happen, I didn't know he would come! I forgot I even had the damned tracking device!"

My eyes rose accusingly. "You kissed her over and over again, and I hated it! I hated it as much as if you'd slept with her!"

"Really? Maybe I should do that to show you just how much worse _that _feels than a few kisses!" Joe's voice was hard and unyielding.

"NO!" I collapsed to the floor with my back against the sofa like it'd been the night we'd decorated his tree.

"I think we're at an impasse, Stephanie. I'm going to call you a cab."

"No, Joe—please _talk_ to me!" I got up on wobbly legs.

"I think we should just give it a rest. I'm exhausted, and you're overwrought. This isn't the time to talk, and to be honest, I don't think there _is_ going to be a time to talk."

"You son of a bitch!" I was so angry with him even thought I didn't have the right to be. He'd given me all that hope for me to cling to! How dare he just send me off in a fucking cab like I was too emotionally unstable to handle a fucking conversation!

"Don't say things you're going to regret," he warned me.

"I'll fucking say whatever I fucking want to say!"

Joe plastered his back against the living room wall and folded his arms in front of him.

"What do I have to do to make you give me a chance? Do I need to promise NEVER to speak to or see Ranger again, because if that's what it takes, I'll do it!"

"You know, making me out to be the ogre who stops you from being who you are isn't the answer here. I wouldn't forbid you to do _anything_. I know better."

At least he was talking. He hadn't dialed the phone to call the cab.

"You're not an ogre. You never have been!" I agreed wholeheartedly.

"What _am_ I to you, Steph?" His eyes seemed confused and so sad.

"You're _everything_ to me," I said without hesitation. I swiped at the sporadic tears still falling.

"I don't think so."

"You are, Joe. I swear it!"

"I don't know what I am even to myself. If you had told me New Year's Eve was going to end like this I'd never have believed it. Jesus, I kissed someone who has been nothing but kind and understanding to me. I toyed with her feelings to hurt you."

He paced with eyes filled with self-recrimination. "That's not who I've been in our relationship—ever. It scares me to see how much being in pain over you could change me. I don't want to cause heartache to anyone, least of all you. So it's better for us to stay apart."

"Forever?"

"I don't know," he admitted, and my heart felt like it had been run over.

"I want to fight for you, Joe."

"Maybe I don't want you to." He started to shift away from me and then turned back around. "There was a time when hearing you say that you wanted me enough to fight for me would have made me so friggen' happy, but I don't feel that way now. I feel like it's too little—too late."

Swallowing the lump in my throat, it just continued on down to my stomach.

"Okay—have it your way." The fight evaporated out of me upon hearing him say he didn't want me to fight for him. It hurt like hell.

"I'll call that cab."

"I know it's a lot to ask, but could you just drive me home? I don't feel right waiting here for a cab."

"Fine—I'll go warm up the car." His voice was dead, and he sounded like he was totally worn out.

"Thanks." We'd turned from potentially becoming lovers again into polite strangers—all in one fucking night!

As we neared my apartment building, I felt chills descend over my body. I couldn't stop shaking. I hadn't eaten any dinner, and it was after two in the morning. I tried to hide it from Joe.

I couldn't even manage the damned handle of the car door. My actions reminded me of the first time Joe and I'd had sex at the Tasty Pastry. My hands had shook so much then I couldn't even get the door unlocked to let him leave.

Joe got out of the car and opened the door for me. Extending his hand to help me out, I took it because I was feeling so lost and disoriented.

He was courteous enough to walk me to the front door of the building, even opening the door to the lobby. But that's where he left me without uttering a single word. He gave me one last sadly disillusioned look, and then he was gone.

**Joe's POV**

I walked into my house after dropping Stephanie at her door feeling wasted and depleted. She'd been shaking like a leaf when I took her hand, but I couldn't bring myself to even speak to her.

Sitting on the couch, I tossed my tie across the room. Bob jumped up in sympathy, letting out a little run of sad cries. Bob was doing exactly what I wanted to do. He jumped down and sat on the floor in front of me, lifting his right paw and offering to shake my hand. That's when I lost it. I took his paw in my hand and shook it as the first tear fell down my cheek. Then grabbing him to me, I cried like a little lost boy.

All my dreams were over. I had no idea where I was supposed to go from here. I only knew whatever—or wherever—it was I'd be all alone.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

**Joe's POV**

**No Profit Not my Characters**

**Carol, You are TALENT! Thank you for being an amazing sounding board, and for always being honest and encouraging.**

**To everyone who reads and reviews a BIG Thank you! **

I tossed and turned all night long.

I couldn't stop my brain from going over and over the events of the previous evening. The bedding was all twisted from my constantly sporadic motions. I was in a torturous half-awake, half-asleep-state throughout the night. The damned scenes played on and on, and I couldn't find a way to tune them out.

I'd relived my excited anticipation of wanting to meet Steph at the party followed by the furious, jealous disillusionment that had taken its place a million times. I'd felt like punching the shit out of Ranger when I'd come upon him holding Stephanie by his car. The fury had escalated up to kill level when I saw them kissing in his car.

The memories of the rest of the night were a jumbled mess of me yelling, and Steph yelling back before morphing into those gut-wrenching tears of hers. My stomach continuously churned over _my _betrayal, kissing Kate and flaunting it in front of Stephanie. It was like a never-ending reel I couldn't stop long enough to escape into any kind of peaceful sleep.

I was exhausted—beyond exhausted. If I'd had the normal amount of sleep in the last month, I couldn't help but wonder if all my reactions would have been different. _What if?_ What if I'd asked Steph to be my date? What if _I'd_ been the one to pick her up? The whole evening would have taken a very different turn. Why the HELL hadn't I done that! She'd been my date in my head—why not on my arm?

Too fucking late now.

What if I'd gotten her phone calls right away, and my damned voice mail hadn't been full? I'd noticed my home phone was off the hook after returning from Steph's apartment. Maybe she'd even tried to call me before I'd left, and I never knew it. What if I'd have listened to her when I first found her in Ranger's arms—if I'd forced myself to remain calm and just offered her that rescue she requested when she called Eddie's? God, the time we would have had! Our celebration would still be continuing now. If only I could have gotten past the erosive effects of my jealousy and mistrust.

My gut told me she'd told the truth. She'd even admitted her possible guilt in allowing Ranger the kiss. She hadn't lied about it, and _that_ was why I was second-guessing all my actions from that point forward. Steph had told me the truth. She'd admitted allowing the kiss to see if any residual feelings remained for Ranger. While that certainly hurt, it wasn't the same as thinking she'd kissed him back or, worse yet, had initiated the kiss the way I had with Kate! God, I wished like hell I could have an instant replay. Wouldn't it be fucking great to be able to hit a damn replay switch and do it all over again—the right way?

I'd always wondered what the outcome would've been had I never issued that ultimatum to Steph about quitting her job when we first planned to marry. Would we be married now?

Fuck!

Why did I ever utter those male chauvinistic words? If I hadn't, we'd have been together all these years! Blowing out a long sad breath, I reminded myself it _had_ happened, and time had been wasted and then some. Worse yet, after the way I left things last night, my relationship with her was pretty much over. Could I live with that? How could I? Living without my Stephanie felt impossibly wrong and intolerably empty.

I wasn't blameless or guiltless.

_All_ the things Steph had accused me of when she was shouting outside my house last night were true. I'd had a sexual attraction to Kate. I'd kissed her after promising Steph it was _her _I loved and wanted a future with. I understood how she would see it as cheating. I would too. I'd kissed Kate on an impulse to hurt Stephanie. I wasn't proud of it, and I didn't do it because of any feelings I thought I might have. It hadn't been a satisfying experience.

No, it had all been a result of my mangled male ego. Kate was "_there_", and I took advantage of the opportunity to give Steph a taste of her own bitter medicine. The immature teenager in me had emerged. My pride had been hurt, and I'd lashed out. I'd _wanted_ her to feel a little of the pain she'd put me through over her obsession with Ranger all those years.

Had I gotten the satisfaction I was craving? Hell no. I'd only managed to hurt Stephanie _and _Kate. _Good going Joe_. I'd have to apologize to Kate for my inexcusably selfish behavior. She hadn't deserved it. I was pretty sure she had feelings for me. And if her enthusiastic response to my kisses were any indication, those feelings were genuine—and strong.

God damn it!

Untwisting from the covers, I climbed out of bed. It was eight in the morning. I didn't even want to try to sleep more. My nerves felt like a tangled mass of turbulent, electrical currents brought on by the after effects of no sleep and no peace. My friggin' libido was in overdrive from the total lack of sexual fulfillment I'd been dealing with for months. One sex-crazed morning session with Stephanie and I'd be mellowed out and ready to face the world again. This abstinence bullshit sure as hell wasn't helping my frazzled nerves any, and I felt like I was going to go ballistic if Steph and I weren't back on track soon.

She'd looked absolutely stunning last night— beyond sexy! Like always she'd literally taken my breath away. She'd said she'd chosen the dress for _me_. I'd be willing to bet she'd chosen the heels for me too. Shit! She should be here right now with sweaty sheets tangled around _her _delectably naked body, and _I_ should be exhausted for a very different and completely satisfying reason.

I'd wanted her to come home with me last night. I'd been planning to surprise her with our long awaited "after New Year's reunion" all along. I hadn't wanted to tip her off in hopes our renewed relationship would be as electrically charged as the anticipated moment when one year turns into another—filled with promising excitement and passionate kissing.

I'd decided to tell her I was ready to put the trust issues of the past behind us and get the hell on with our lives together.

I wanted that so fucking much! We've been apart too damned long, and I wasn't getting any younger. It was time to take a giant step into maturity and be with the woman I was born to be with. She's everything I'd ever wanted and more. Instead last night I took a giant leap all right—backwards!

Looking around the room, I noticed Bob was contently snoring by the recliner in the corner. Steph should be here too walking in with a tray of peanut butter and olive sandwiches—definitely an acquired taste. She'd have donuts and two glasses of milk too. It was our standard quickie breakfast after a night of passionate lovemaking. I wish I could tell her I made a huge mistake, and we could have our restart begin right now on New Year's Day.

But sadly I couldn't. She may have been honest, but it didn't change the fact she let him kiss her. She could have stopped it—but she didn't. The little aggravating voice in my head calls me a _HYPOCRITE! Why is that_ _different than you kissing Kate_? My brain tries to weasel out of the recriminations— _Steph cheated on you with Ranger for years. They have a history_!

The two of _them_ having a history makes me want to climb the walls. _We _have a _history! _I_t_'s what's kept us coming back to one another for years! It's convoluted and rich and filled to the max with deep love, humor, angst, hot torrid sex and incredibly explosive passion. The mere idea that she and Ranger had anything remotely close to what we do is nothing short of tortuous.

I shook my head to ward off the headache that was fast approaching, recalling the feelings I'd had the night before. After everything I'd witnessed with Ranger and Stephanie, I felt like I'd functioned on autopilot. Now in the light of day, I realized I hadn't been in my body or mind completely. I'd rejected Stephanie's offer to fight for me as if it hadn't meant anything and it meant—EVERYTHING!

I regretted the whole entire evening, every word I said and every action I took.

Now I didn't' know what to do. I wanted to see Stephanie and talk to her. But I was afraid it would just turn into more yelling and screaming and dead-end in the same stalemate we'd been in for months. I wondered if she even _wanted_ to see me. Probably not. She'd said watching me kiss Kate had hurt her as badly as if Kate and I'd had sex.

Remembering that little comment pissed me off yet again. Kissing Kate _wasn't_ as bad as if I'd had sex with her! _Not even close_. Trust me Stephanie, it _HURTS tons_ more when you've had to imagine the love of your life lying naked in bed underneath another man's body—making love to him, moaning and begging for sexual release and then coming back to _my bed _afterward as if it never even happened! I'd had films of that running in my head for years. I'd been trying so fucking hard to leave it all behind and it all came crashing back last night the moment I saw her standing in his arms by that Porsche.

Her betrayal was a festering wound. I'd think it had closed up all the way, and then one little thing happened and it became a gaping infected mess again. A mess I had to somehow wade through to get to the finish line I hoped would be _our_ relationship—Steph's and mine— miraculously still intact.

I was still angry and didn't completely trust Stephanie would _ever_ be over him. Because of it, I knew I'd never be able to keep my emotions in check in person. Last night was still too fresh. She was hurting, and I was too. What usually came out of that when we tried to talk about it was MORE pain. We'd shout and blame one another and make it all worse than it already was. But God, I _wanted_ to see her so much! I wanted to look into her eyes and tell her how much I still loved her.

Things couldn't be left the way they were though either. At the very least I owed her an apology for my thoughtless cruel, behavior. I didn't want her in pain. As much as I thought in that moment New Year's Eve that it would be just and satisfying, it was the exact opposite. I hated myself for what I'd done to her.

Maybe I'd just call her. We'd always had pretty good conversations on the phone and it might help NOT to see the expressions on one another's faces to keep our emotions in check. It was the body language—my crazy Italian arm waving and her eye rolls—that escalated normal conversations into heated uncontrollable arguments.

That's what I'd do—call her. I'd apologize for my part in making things worse. I never should have kissed Kate to hurt Stephanie. It had been cheating, because, no matter what friggin' words I'd said, I wanted her back. No, I wanted _more_ than what we'd ever had before.

Grabbing my cell, I was about to punch in her speed-dial when I changed my mind. I didn't want to wake her up. Maybe I should wait a couple more hours then call later, so instead I took Bob for an unusually late morning walk.

Upon our return, I found Kate sitting on my front step. She wore blue jeans, a green turtleneck and a plaid winter jacket. She had her arms wrapped around herself for warmth.

Shit!

I'd planned to talk to Kate by phone too. I wasn't in any shape for an in-person confrontation with either Stephanie or her.

"Hi." Guilt washed over me.

"Morning," Kate answered.

"Kate, I owe you a huge apology." I didn't even want to look her in the eye, but forced myself to do it.

"Joe—" She got up off the steps, and I ushered her inside the house. The last thing we needed was MORE Burg gossip. I could only imagine the fall-out the Plum/Morelli families were dealing with already.

"How long have you been waiting?"

"I saw you and Bob heading down the block when I drove up. I figured you wouldn't be too long. I'd just gotten out of the car before you turned the corner.

"Can I get you something warm to drink?" I asked, remembering my manners.

"No thanks. Joe, I came by to let you know you don't need to wallow in guilt all day," she grinned reassuringly.

"I don't wallow—much," I smiled feebly, and then sighed. In truth, it was guilt eating away at me this morning, so much so, that when I'd gone to feed Bob, I'd almost put my cereal in his dish and his dog food in my cereal bowl. I'd then absently poured milk over his dog food. Luckily Bob thought it made nice gravy and lapped up every last drop. The dog food in _my_ bowl would have been appropriate seeing as I was definitely in the doghouse!

"Kate, I _am_ guilty. I feel horrible about using you the way I did last night."

"I knew exactly what you were doing. I made sure I was there so you _could_ do it," Kate confessed blushing slightly.

"You did? You wanted me to—"

"I've wanted you to kiss me since the day we met. Granted, not under those circumstances, but I'd heard enough of your argument upstairs to know it was because Stephanie had some kind of continued contact with the other man she's been involved with that you did it. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. You just looked so angry that I figured you might need someone to talk to after the two of you had it out."

"You heard?" God! _The whole freaking house probably heard_! I digested the rest of Kate's words, feeling like a jerk for leading her on at all.

"I'm sorry—talking would have been better than me using you like that!"

"You didn't use me. _Okay_ maybe you did, but I let you, if you hadn't kissed me, I'd made up my mind I was going to kiss you! I thought it was time for Stephanie to see what it was like to have the shoe on the other foot!"

"I see."

There was so much more to Kate than I'd even realized, and I wasn't sure if that was good or bad.

"I hope you're not upset with me, Joe. I just hated watching you be taken for granted again!"

"Upset? No, I'm not. But I never wanted to put you in the middle of this mess."

"I know that. And I'm sorry if what happened caused _you_ more pain. I'm sure Stephanie ripped you a new one for your behavior with me. She hates my guts."

"I'm the ONE who should be apologizing to you! I _am_ so sorry, Kate. I don't know what came over me. Steph and I were ready to get back together. We'd discussed it and agreed it was happening. Then I saw her with HIM—again—and everything we planned went to hell."

"You don't owe me any apology. I promise you I'm a big girl, and I knew exactly why you kissed me last night. I also know why I kissed you back, and it had nothing to do with retaliation—rather everything to do with how _you_ make me _feel_. I _like_ you too. I'm _very_ attracted to you. Stephanie was right about me. I wanted those kisses and more. It's not exactly a secret."

She came over to where I was standing in the kitchen. Her smile was genuinely affectionate. In spite of my resolve to make things work with Stephanie, I felt torn again. _God!_ When was I fucking going to get my head on straight? I was tired and lonely, and I felt the temptation stirring once again. I _had_ to get my act together! I couldn't afford this kind of asinine thinking! I wished to God I could have gotten more sleep last night. I'd have a hell of lot more control over my feelings if I'd been able to get eight damned hours in a row!

Kate had her hands resting on my chest. She leaned toward me, and I felt the urge to take her in my arms again just to see if I felt something—anything. If I did, it would be so easy to turn my back on all the turmoil, doubt, and unending frustration with Stephanie and simply move on with my life. But whom was I kidding? _Stephanie was my life!_

"NO!" I moved to the side, and Kate's hands dropped. I breathed out the gulp of air I was holding in.

Kate's eyes were downcast for a moment, and her face was flushed when she finally looked up into my eyes. "You don't _owe_ her your fidelity, Joe. She hasn't ever been faithful to you. You said so yourself."

"_I know_! And if it was _any other woman_—but it's _Stephanie_," I said, as though simply saying her name would explain my feelings about her to Kate. "There is so much that's still unresolved with Steph, and I that I can't in good conscious make any more choices I'd have a hard time explaining even to myself, let alone her. I'm going to call her today, Kate, and if she'll even talk to me, I need to apologize to her too. I don't know where it will end up. I only know I have to try. I'm not proud of how I let things end last night between us. I owe us a chance to at least try to figure this out, if it's even possible."

"Why do you keep going back?" she asked, her tone a tad frustrated.

"Because I've always been _there_." I admitted. "She's _it_ for me—always has been and always will be. I _know_ it. No matter how many times we get this damned thing fucked up, there is a _part_ of me that never separates from her. I believe we _are_ meant to be."

Kate took in a deep breath. "So this means you and I will never happen." I thought I was clear, but I could still see hope in her eyes.

"Up until last night, _I'd_ been faithful. I admit there's an attraction between us, but I _love_ her. It's _never _going to go away. I've fought it and run from it before, and so has she. We always end up back together, and when it happens next time, as I believe it will, that's it! She and I both agreed. We'd never be apart again.

Kate smiled sadly. "I envy her."

"I'm _sorry,_ Kate, if I'd have met you before—" I laughed because before would have been prior to us all being born. "Stephanie has been in my life for what seems like forever, and even though we might be apart physically, there's always been a connection I can't even explain."

"Okay. I respect you for that. She's one lucky woman! Joe, if you need me, I'm here—as a friend," she qualified.

"Thanks. You _are_ a good friend," I smiled and nodded. I felt like we'd taken a much needed step back, and my loyalty to Stephanie had been renewed.

Kate left. I paced. I knew I had NO reason to put off that _call_ another second.

Grabbing the phone, I pushed the speed dial number before I could change my mind. I had no idea what kind of reception I'd get. She'd more than likely hang up on me and then throw the phone across the room. I wouldn't blame her if she did.

**Steph's POV**

"_Stephanie, I really need to talk to you. If you're there, and I'm pretty sure you are, pick up."_

I listened to Joe's voice asking me to pick up the phone. A part of me wanted to more than anything, and another part started to shake again just like the night before. I was so dead tired. A sleepless night had left me feeling nauseated and off kilter—almost as if part of my body was out floating in space.

The fact he was trying to call gave me hope. What scared me was remembering the way he'd reacted to my vow of wanting to fight for him. He'd said he didn't want that, which really meant he didn't want me in his life anymore. I wondered if the kisses with Kate had convinced him he could do better. Way better. No question he deserved better. I'd done nothing but mutilate everything good we'd ever shared. Who could blame him?

His wasn't the only call I hadn't answered. Apparently the Burg had buzzed all night and well into the morning. And everyone one I knew had tried to call—my mother, my sister, my father, Grandma Mazur, Mary Lou—Mary Lou? God I hadn't even gotten to see her at the party! I'd also gotten messages from Lula, Connie and Eddie. I hadn't answered the phone or returned any of the calls.

Last night had felt so final. Why was Joe even calling?

I kept trying to make sense out of why everything had gone so wrong. If only I'd called Joe for a ride in the first place. If only he'd taken the same route as me and run into me and my sick car on the way to Eddie's. I wondered what would have happened if I'd gotten a hold of him on the phone right away. The timing would have been right on, and he'd have found me before Ranger did. If I had just gotten my ass out of Ranger's car and gone inside and NO kiss had occurred, then what would have happened? If I had kept my temper better and chosen my words more wisely, would we have made up? _God!_ I could go over and over it all in my mind, but it all came up as a complicated mess no matter what. As much as I wanted to I couldn't undo any of it.

The phone rang again, and I listened to the tone of Joe's voice. "_Steph_, _please pick up. I know you're there._ _Please let me talk to you. I really_ _need to hear your voice_." The sadness in his tenor made me weaken.

Reaching for the phone, I clicked the talk button. "I'm here."

"_Thank God_!" Joe's voice was filled with relief. "Are you okay? I've gotten like a zillion calls from everyone. None that I've answered, but Burg busybodies are sure starting the New Year off with a bang."

"Why did you call, Joe?" My voice seemed strange even to me.

"I—I just wanted to talk. I feel really badly about the way things went last night, and I wanted to see if you were okay. You were trembling when I took you to your door. I should have asked you then, but I was too fucking self—"

"I'm okay. Thanks for bringing me home. I should have said that last night." Tears were filling my eyes. He was so courteous. I couldn't stand him treating me with such detachment.

"Before everything went to hell—I wasn't _intending_ to bring you home. I wanted you to be with me—_here_." I heard his confession but it was made in the past tense, making my heart twist all over again.

"I wanted that more than you know." I had to swallow back the tears in my voice.

"I just can't stop thinking about how it all went crazy." He sounded confused and dead tired.

"Neither can I."

"We just can't ever seem to get on the same wavelength at the same damn time," he said with frustration.

"We were, Joe. _I was_, and I think you were too."

"Yeah. Well what now?"

"Do you want to come over and talk?" I asked him, keeping the hope from my intonation. I didn't want to pressure him, and I didn't want to drown in disappointment if he said no.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea. I'm afraid we'd just fight again."

"We might not. We're not fighting now."

"Well it might start again once I say to you that I'm really sorry for my behavior or lack of it last night. You were _right_. My kissing Kate _was cheating_, as was the liking her and the attraction to her. I was telling you all along that I loved _you_ and _even_ thinking about her _was _cheating."

Silence.

Cupcake, are you there?"

"I am." The tears were evident in my voice. I was remembering how it felt as I watched him kissing her and holding her in his arms. _God!_ I wanted to get the damned picture out of my head. And if I was having trouble with my _one_ picture, how much trouble had Joe gone through with an _entire_ photo album of my infidelities with Ranger.

"Steph, I am in no way trying to excuse my behavior, but I want you to understand how exhausted I was. I've gotten like two or three hours of sleep almost every night for nearly the last month. I'm just saying if I'd have been myself, maybe I'd have handled things differently."

"I know. You _never _get enough sleep." I felt even worse for putting him through more pain when he was obviously extremely drained.

"I _regret_ everything that happened. It was in the moment, and I was so pissed. I swear to you it didn't _mean _anything."

"Are you sure? You like her." I reminded him in a small voice. _What—was I an_ _idiot!_

"Like isn't LOVE! _I love you_." His words came out as if it was breathing for him.

"And she's NOT me. You said it yourself, Joe, so maybe you're looking for someone who isn't anything like me." I went on torturing myself as if he hadn't uttered the words I longed to hear. _Definitely an idiot!_

"Why in the hell would I want that?" He asked like it was a crazy idea.

"Because someone who isn't me might bring you happiness—not all the pain and confusion I've given you over the years."

"Cupcake, I've given you some pretty rocky times too in the past. We're not perfect. What we are is a work in progress. And, Stephanie, no one has brought me the degree of happiness that you have—_ever_. _N__o_ _one else could."_

I hiccupped/sobbed into the phone. His words gave me hope after I'd all but given up.

"Are you crying?" his soft, nurturing voice asked me.

"No—Yes," I amended, knowing he knew anyway. He could always see right through me—even over the phone.

"Don't cry, Cupcake. You know I hate it when you cry."

"I hate it too!"

"Are you—can you forgive me?" he asked hesitantly.

I laughed through the tears at the irony of his request. "Who am I _not_ to forgive you? I've been a total hypocrite for our entire relationship."

"I don't want to rehash the past, Steph. I _really_ don't."

"But it keeps rearing its ugly head in your face. I'm so sorry about everything I said or did to hurt you, Joe. I didn't have any idea Ranger was going to do _it_, I swear. NOTHING prepared me for it. Had I known, I wouldn't have let it happen. I know from your viewpoint I didn't stop it, but I didn't return his kiss either. Probably I should have hit him over the head with my purse or something!" I'd reworked that moment in my mind a million times and still felt so totally stupid for having let it happen.

I could hear Joe smiling through the phone.

"God, if you had, I'd have wished for a camera. Now that would have been a _good_ moment captured on film." I could almost see his expression over the phone. It made me smile.

"You deserve nothing but good moments."

"I don't know about that, but I do know I caused you some bad ones last night, and I really _need_ you to forgive me for them."

"I'm trying." _I am such a damned hypocrite_! "I will too. I just can't get the image out of my head right now."

"I understand." His voice was without sarcasm or judgment.

"I KNOW you do!" I relented. I needed to stop being such a two-faced fraud. If I expected forgiveness and absolution from Joe for all I had done, then he deserved it from me in spades. "I forgive you, Joe."

"You do?"

"Yes. It never would have happened if we'd have just gone to the damn party _together_."

"I know. I've thought the same damned thing all night. Why the hell I didn't ask you to come with me I don't know. I guess I thought it would be kind of sexy to meet there—almost as if it were the first time we'd laid eyes on one another. I really wish I had, Cupcake."

I laughed to myself, because I'd had the same feelings. Wow—talk about idiots! Joe and I took the cake, the pie _and _the donuts in that department.

"I wish you had too."

"Steph, we've got to find a way to get past this whole thing."

"I know. I just can't stop thinking—" I had to find out. It was tearing my heart in two all night and all day.

"About what?"

"Wondering how much you enjoyed it—I mean kissing _her_?" I asked. I wanted a straight answer but was dreading one at the same time.

"I was so busy making sure I got to retaliate against you I don't think I felt much of anything."

"Nothing?" I exhaled in relief.

"Steph, it was about hurting you. How could I take pleasure in that?"

"Kate's gorgeous—that's how."

"Well so are you. You looked so goddamned sexy last night. You've always taken my breath away."

My eyes watered imagining the look in _his_ eyes as I heard his low, husky tone.

_I had to know what to expect_. "Joe, are we going to get past this or end up as friends who politely inquire after one another when we bump into each other in public and then send each other Christmas cards, pretending we never loved one another at all?"

"I don't know, but I sure as hell hope we can."

"Okay—well it's been good talking to you—"

"_Wait_!"

"For what? For you to tell me you don't want me in your life anymore! To hear you expand on the fact I blew us out of the water again? Tell me what the fuck I'm supposed to wait for _now_!"

"Steph, right before I called you I listened to my messages. One of the reasons this thing between us might take more time is I think Michaels and Commissioner Brooks may want me to go out of town on an undercover operation. More than likely it's something with the FBI again."

"Oh." It made sense, but I hated that it did.

"Yeah, it stinks!"

"Can't you say no?" I didn't want MORE time and space to grow between us!

"It's not really an option, Steph. You know that. I've kind of always been the _one _that's asked to do that stuff. It's usually something that's been brewing for awhile, and I get to come in at the end and help sweep up the garbage!"

I could tell Joe enjoyed that part. I guess I was lucky he liked garbage since I'd been covered in it half my adult life. Come to think of it, he'd cleaned _me_ up—his fair share of the time.

"When am I going to see you again?" I asked, swallowing the disappointment of knowing it might not be soon.

"I don't know. I'll know more after that meeting tomorrow."

"Joe." I bit my lip. This wasn't easy to ask him.

"Yeah, Cupcake?"

"How does Kate fit into your future?"

"We're just friends—nothing more."

"What about—?"

"What about you realizing that _you're_ the girl for me, Steph. You always have been, and you always will be."

"You're the guy for me, Joe. You always have been too."

"Then I'd say we're making progress." I could feel the smile in his words.

"We are," I agreed softly.

"I'll call you when I know more about work."

"Will we see each other before you go?" I didn't want him to leave without getting to say goodbye.

"I hope so. I miss you, Cupcake."

"I miss you, Morelli."

"Happy New Year," he said, and I could finally feel hope again.

"Happy New Year, Joe."

**Joe's POV**

I wanted to call Stephanie soon! Hearing her voice just made me want to be with her all the more—in the flesh—naked.

But first I had a very important meeting with Captain Michaels and Commissioner Brooks. I had a feeling this meeting might entail me going out of town on assignment, and there was NO way I was going to reunite with Stephanie only to leave her alone again for weeks or months on end. I wasn't going to be that cruel—not after everything we'd been through.

My nerves were on edge while I waited in the office. I was getting a strange feeling about all of it. It was an evening meeting, which in itself was odd. It was after nine, and I just wanted to get it over with.

Finally the two of them arrived together, and, to my surprise, an FBI suit accompanied them. It was someone I'd never met, but I could spot an agent a mile away after having worked for The Bureau many times. He was introduced to me as Thomas Griffin from the Office of Law Enforcement Coordination. After the usual pleasantries, we sat down and got to the business at hand.

"Joe, we have a request to make of you. It's not something I want you to agree to immediately. You need to give it some thought before you give us your answer," Captain Michaels began. The man should have been a damned mystery writer.

"That's right, Joe," Commissioner Brooks added. "This isn't your every day, run-of-the-mill operation. This is big!"

"We'd appreciate your assistance in this most crucial matter," added Griffin.

_Oh boy. This sounds like fun_.

I was running on empty as usual and running even lower on patience. "Why don't you just tell me what it is, and I'll tell you how I feel about it."

"As you know we've been working with the FBI in putting a lot of procedures into place in the Trenton State prison system to ward off the infiltration of crimes being committed by the inmates in jail."

"Of course I know about it."

"Well, what you don't know is we have an FBI agent in place. He's been looking into the corruption from the inside by posing as a prison guard."

"Why didn't you tell me this?"

"Because it was on a need-to-know basis, and you didn't need to know at the time. But things have changed drastically," Brooks said, shaking his head.

"How so?"

"We aren't sure if he can do the job alone. It's not easy to maneuver around nosing into everything when you have hundreds of criminals watching your every move."

"I see. How does this concern me?"

"We need to put another undercover person in there as backup, and we agree, as does the FBI, because of your extensive work with them that you're the man for the job."

"You want me to go undercover as a prison guard?"

"No, we want you to go undercover as a _crooked cop_." Michaels explained in an almost jovial tone.

_Excuse me if I wasn't smiling_.

"As one of the inmates?" My stomach lurched as I considered the words. "_A crooked cop in jail is a dead man_." I didn't realize I'd said it aloud.

"We hope not, Joe," Brooks said so encouragingly.

"Gee, thanks—that's reassuring."

"We have elements being put in place for your protection," Captain Michaels filled in.

"It should be the best case scenario we can establish," The suit added.

"Just how long have I been on the short list to do this?"

"Well, as we said, the FBI man has been at it a few weeks, but we had to come up with a contingency plan in case something happened. For example, should his cover be blown, we'd need to pull him out and replace him with another guard, and that would probably only result in another blown cover."

"HOW LONG!" I'd had a feeling that something had been afoot for a while.

"About two and half months," Michaels finally admitted.

"And you're just telling me now? You want me to lay my life on the line as a crooked cop in prison, and I didn't need to know!" I laughed humorlessly.

"You're a cop, Morelli. You lay your life on the line every single day." _How sweet of __Michaels to remind me._

"Why me?" I wanted to know.

A part of me was pissed. Another part wanted to cry, because for the first time since becoming a cop, I wanted to say NO to an assignment. I was just getting a personal life after years of sacrificing my time and energy into the job. If Steph and I were to get together, I wanted MORE time with her. I wanted to find a way to enjoy my life and relax more. I wanted to be there when my kids were babies and as they grew up, and not be so exhausted that I couldn't even see straight.

"You fit in with them. You have that street smart, wiseass kind of personality we need in there. They'll buy you being a bad cop because of your family background. The long line of Morelli men before you would make it plausible you're not the upstanding man you appeared to be. People will buy that Joe Morelli changed. Maybe you started drinking too much and had trouble in the romance department. Things started to go south and you fell into an old family pattern of badass, bad attitude men. You've gotten quite the chip on your shoulder."

Commissioner Brooks wove the fabrication as though he was pitching a new brand of deodorant guaranteed to take the stench away. This still smelled pretty badly. No pitch was good enough to convince me this was going to go well for me.

"Wow, you've both really thought this through. Why doesn't _one of you_ go in there?"

I was beyond furious. They sure had no trouble deciding my life, ruining my reputation like it was nothing!

"Joe, like we said—_think_ about it. You were also our choice because you don't have a wife or kids. The other candidates on the list do, and we know this could be— "

"The end of Joe Morelli," I filled in for them. "What if I wanted to have a wife and children someday? Does that matter at all?"

"Well of course we don't want you to die in there, Joe!" Michael's eyes warned me to behave. I wasn't exactly in a behaving mood.

"Right, I really appreciate the sentiment. You don't have ANY other candidates for this _without_ family?" I couldn't in good conscious say no. I didn't want some other poor guy who was already father to God knows how many children to have to leave them and sacrifice his life. I wasn't that heartless. And fucking Michaels knew it! _SHIT!_ Why now?

"I do need some time to think about this."

"We understand."

"What exactly would I be going after while in prison?"

"Until you decide—"

"You _tell _me what and who I am going after, or my answer is NO! I have a right to know exactly what this will entail in order to make an informed decision, and, trust me, if you hold anything back again concerning this mission—now OR later—ALL bets are OFF! You can find yourself another lackey!"

"Very well." Griffin took the floor. "We believe Gregor Bluttovich is behind some of the most heinous crimes being ordered from prison. The man's a total lunatic! But there is NO proof. We haven't turned up any evidence on him. If we can get something concrete to tie him to the string of nonstop murders, money-laundering—you name the crime—then we'd get somewhere!"

I knew the name well. I'd been in on the arrest, along with the Feds, Ranger and a truckload of crazy hopping Hobbits led by Vinnie Plum! We'd captured him in a medieval castle complete with towers and turrets. The grey stone, portentously ugly castle fit the Bulgarian, maniacal monster perfectly.

Blutto had ordered the capture and potential murder of Vinnie whom he knew had double-crossed him in business dealings. Of course my beautiful Stephanie had been right in the middle of it as usual. Some of Bluttos' notoriously stupid henchmen were sure Mooner was Vinnie and had mistakenly kidnapped him. They' taken Stephanie as well for an added bonus.

My heart had palpitated constantly while racing to rescue them. I'd had a horrible feeling we might be too late. I'd had premonitions and nightmares, daunting enough to match Grandma Bella's visions, that someday I'd be too late. We'd made it in time, and I could hardly take my eyes off Stephanie once we'd found her.

I'd thought stupidly when we put Blutto away it would be the end of it. It didn't really shock me that a lunatic of his magnitude would still be causing mayhem whenever and wherever he could. Getting the death penalty could only stop people like that, or if someone equally as evil, took it upon himself to seek revenge by murdering the Bulgarian Jabba the Hutt. Unfortunately New Jersey no longer condoned the death penalty, and I wasn't sure there was anyone more evil than Blutto who'd have the balls to do the dirty deed and off him.

I remembered a cold chill had gone down my spine when Stephanie, after being rescued from the castle turret, had come down to the kitchen to witness Blutto's arrest. His dark soulless eyes had bored into hers, and he'd directed his rage toward her in a harsh one-word growl that had sounded ominously threatening.

"YOU!"

It was all I could do not to go over and tell him to get his fucking eyes off my girl! I'd have loved to shut his threatening mouth permanently. But I was a cop and had been forced to abide by the letter of the law. But God, I'd hated the way Blutto had looked at her.

The cop in me that was still partially disillusioned wondered what good it would do to nail someone who was already in prison serving time? It wasn't like anything would stop him. I wondered if we could find some way to get him extradited and sent back to his own country. Let them deal with him!

I pushed my focus back to the droning voice of Brooks.

"We know Blutto has communicated through contraband cell phones, and we know he's smuggling them in, but what we don't know is how. Even with all the new security measures we've added, it shouldn't be possible. He's got a lot of people on his payroll inside and outside the prison walls. And with the right amount of money, you can always find someone to do the dirty work.

We need to stop him before he takes over the entire penitentiary, and it's not just there. As you know, the crime syndicate is being run like a network of evil limbs branching out from prison to prison. The criminals have an encoded communication system. Sometimes it's a foreign language no one has used in years. The latest one we've intercepted is Aztec. There's nothing they'll stop at—no method goes unexplored by them—to keep their wickedness going. It's getting totally out of control."

I couldn't help but think about what a waste of intelligence. If these criminals were smart enough to master Aztec, then why in the hell didn't they make something of themselves rather than turn to a seedy, unproductive life of crime.

"We need to nail this imbecile to the wall. We need to protect the prisoners whom he's threatening into the complicity of committing more crimes. We know the corruption is infiltrating even the prison employees, but we don't know how deep it goes. We haven't ruled anyone out—not even the warden. In fact, it's more than likely he's in it up to his ears!"

"We need you, Joe!" Commissioner Brooks finished his big sales pitch.

"I need to take some time to think about it, and I'll give you my answer in a few days." I wanted to say NO right then, but I'd taken an oath to serve and protect—an oat I took seriously. If I could be instrumental in changing the corruption going on in prison—even if it was only a drop in the bucket, it'd be something. I got into law enforcement to make changes happen for the better. It'd been beating-my-head-against-a-brick-wall, non-stop frustration at times. As much as I wanted to turn my back on this idea, I couldn't give them a flat out no. And yet I wasn't ready to say yes either.

"Thank you, Joe. You know we'll have your back in there should you decide to go through with this." Brooks offered his hand. I shook it as well as those of Michaels and Griffin.

Heading out into the crisp January air, I took a deep, deep breath. I already knew what I had to do. But I had to prepare myself for it—mentally, physically and emotionally.

Mostly emotionally.

Was I willing to give up every dream I'd ever had? Was I going to have to let go of the need to be respected in people's eyes, including my own family? I could lose Stephanie—possibly forever. And in all reality, I might well be going into that prison to perform my last act of service.


	18. Chapter 18

**NO profit. Not my characters. **

**Carol, as always is my writing Rock! Your guidance and imput are a huge part of this story and it would never have happened without you.**

**It's a long chapter again. Hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading and reviewing it I appreciate it more than you know.**

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Joe's POV**

After the bombshell of a meeting with Brooks, Michaels and the FBI guy Griffin, I sat in my car for awhile just thinking about it. I realized that maybe I wasn't ready to do this crazy, doomed-to-failure assignment. I had to take a step back and really give myself a chance to think it through.

If I were to assess this with pros and cons, this would mostly definitely be a CON! Funny how convict and con went together so well.

The one pro was the fact that maybe we'd be successful and turn the corruption in the prison system over on its ass! Now that would make all the shit I knew I had ahead of me worth it!

The con's list went to infinity and beyond, because it was more than possible I'd end up leaving that prison in a black zippered body bag.

Shit.

Bluttovich had a reputation for being a completely crazy bastard whose choice of weapon when he wasn't in prison was a chain saw. Tangling with him and all his henchmen would be like going on a suicide mission. And fuck it all I wasn't ready to die, which was pretty funny considering my choice of profession. As a cop I knew for years my time could be up in the flash of a shootout. After being faced tonight dead center in the eyes with my own mortality, it wasn't something I wanted to visit at this point in time. Come and get me in another _fifty_ years. I'd be ready to go then— after I'd actually _lived my_ _life_.

Deciding to get the hell out of the precinct parking lot, I couldn't shut my mind down now that I'd started weighing my decision. I guess I'd never realized before how much I wanted a future. I felt like I'd fucked up my personal life pretty damned good and taken on my job as though _it_ were a _marriage_, so much so that I'd denied myself what I'd always wanted—my own family.

That brought me right back to the reason why I _had_ to take on this shitty assignment. I had no wife or children. I wouldn't be leaving _anyone_ behind that needed me to take care of them. I guess that was a good thing, but it was a pretty friggin' sad thing too.

I regretted for the millionth time not marrying Steph when I'd had that chance. I always thought there would be another time, another opportunity to make her my wife. I'd fooled myself into believing we had plenty of time. What was the rush? Why in the hell had I bought into that bullshit? I was so afraid she'd leave me that I made light of marrying her, acting like I hadn't really wanted it. I should've gotten a ring, bent down on one knee and told her how much she meant to me, but instead I'd issued stupid ultimatums. The _time_ was then. When I'd had the ONE chance I'd blown it!

At least I knew Steph would be okay. If I chose to do this assignment and didn't make it out in one piece, she had the strength to take care of herself. She'd been proving that to me for years. I knew she'd stand on her own two feet just fine.

I wanted more for her though. I wanted her to find happiness. If only I had a fucking crystal ball and could see she'd be happy, I'd go into the prison system at peace, totally believing it was the right thing to do.

I couldn't have that peace not knowing what the future held for any of my loved ones. I hated the thought of them being left with the heartbreaking knowledge I'd taken a turn to the dark side after all the years I'd given nothing but honest public service. It rankled a lot, because I'd worked so damned hard to get to where I was. It had been a fucking uphill battle to shed the Morelli Curse and become respected and depended on by my community and by my fellow officers. Giving that up wasn't easy. If I made it out of the prison walls and came back into society, the truth would be revealed. Everyone would know I was just doing my job like always. If I didn't make it, no one would ever know the whole truth for sure. I'd die in the disgrace I'd avoided like the plague my whole adult life.

It killed me to think my Mom would have to deal with the aftermath of everyone's judgment and gossip while she was trying to grieve for me. My poor mother had already had enough sorrow.

I wondered what it would be like for my sweet Stephanie to question if the Joe she thought she knew ever really existed at all. Would the horror of seeing me convicted and thrown into jail send her racing back into Ranger's arms? I took a deep aching breath. For her to be happy was all that mattered—right? It would be a hard pill to swallow, but then I'd probably never have to see it with my own eyes anyway. Hearing of it would be devastating enough.

My thoughts turned in my mind over and over again. I went back and forth between yes and no like I was a friggin' car blinker. This was without a doubt the most excruciating decision I've ever had to make in my life.

First and foremost I was a police officer sworn to protect and defend anyone in trouble. The New Jersey State Prison was in _big_ trouble. Closing my eyes, I tried to make the decision. I had to do whatever I could. If I didn't, I'd lose respect for myself. I'd be turning my back on everything I'd always stood for and believed in. But that didn't make it any easier to make up my mind.

I'd been driving around while I processed my thoughts for well over an hour. I didn't know where I was going or where the hell I'd end up. I just drove. And after another twenty minutes of mulling and driving, I pulled my SUV into a familiar parking lot and gazed up at the windows of _her _apartment. It'd been ages, but I knew that place like the back of my hand. The lights were on, and I felt like I couldn't move. I could only stare up at them as though they were calling to me like a beacon.

My eyes burned. I'd been avoiding facing the tragic truth stabbing at me. The idea that Stephanie would _never _be my wife, the realization we'd probably _never_ have children put a big fat lump in my throat. It'd been my dream for so damned long. Saying good-bye to it was gut wrenching.

A montage of what would never be played in my mind, making my eyes water. I envisioned for the millionth time what it would feel like to see Stephanie walk down the aisle toward me with a huge grin on her face as our eyes met. I felt the rush of how fucking good it would have felt to slip a ring on her finger and finally make her mine forever. My mind moved to a future I knew I'd probably never experience. I could see Stephanie pregnant with our first child, and then I felt the warm soft bundle in my arms. I envisioned our baby with dark black curls and blue eyes staring up at me, expecting me to take care of him or her forever.

Tears were falling down my cheeks as I swallowed back the deepest sadness I'd ever felt in my life. I let them fall unchecked, knowing I had to make peace with it somehow. How in the fucking hell was I supposed to do it? It felt like I was cheating myself out of everything I'd ever wanted. Looking back at the apartment lights, my chest hurt as though someone was squeezing the life out of me.

I saw her shadowy figure passing by the living room window, and my hand was on the latch to the car door, opening it before I let myself reject the idea. I'd been so fucking lost without her. I _needed_ to see her more than I needed to breathe.

I was _starving _for her.

What if I went on this mission and never came back? I couldn't leave everything the way it was between us. The phone call we'd shared on New Years Day had given us hope. But how could I call her and tell her there was no reason to reunite now? I'd be pulling the plug on us, and she'd think I didn't love her after all. On the other hand, if I let us have that long-awaited reunion we were both dying to have, I'd be leaving her just like I did after we first became lovers, only this time I might never come back.

She'd never know how much she'd always meant to me. She'd be devastated when news of my "crimes" reached her ears. I didn't even want to think of her face as she was informed by a newspaper headline the man she thought she knew had completely changed into an untrustworthy loser.

At the very least I needed her to know how much I wanted her to be happy. I wouldn't want her to be grieving for me if something bad happened. But after reading her _Morelli Moments Journal, _I knew she would. Even though we weren't together at the end, she would feel it deeply like she did the day my dad died.

Steph had always been in tune with me somehow. And I knew, even in my death, we'd always be connected. That was the depth of love we had. If I weren't going on this impossible mission soon, I'd tell her that. But I couldn't be so selfish as to recommit to her only to abandon her again—possibly forever.

The elevator came to a stop, and I took the few steps to her door. Again I realized how much I _needed_ to see her. Maybe it was selfish, but I didn't care. The overwhelming desire to gaze into those eyes—those amazing blue gems, vetoed any chance of me acting sanely and leaving. I knocked on the door using a familiar rhythmic pattern she'd instantly know as mine.

The door swung open; the chain still engaged. There were those mesmerizing eyes of hers. She looked so goddamned beautiful! It reminded me of the time after she'd turned me in as her first FTA and she'd made sure I was cleared of all the charges against me. I'd showed up at her door, uninvited, with a Pino's Pizza and a six-pack.

I smiled and waved like that first night.

"Hey…"

"Joe?" I knew she was having trouble believing I was standing outside her door. I hadn't been there since the fateful day I'd let her go. Funny how sometimes it felt like it was yesterday, and other times it seemed like eons ago.

"Yeah. I guess I should have called. It's late—"

"No! No, come in." She released the chain and opened the door.

I stepped in, and what I saw kicked me in the chest. She looked mind-blowing sexy, as though she'd been out for the evening. She was wearing a green dress that clung to her in all the right places. It was low in the front, revealing just enough tantalizing skin. Her hair cascaded in soft curls to her shoulders, and her face glowed with natural beauty. Looking down, I took in the copper stilettos, and my heart began to palpitate.

I wondered why she was so dressed up at this hour. Then it hit me. She might not be there alone! It felt like I'd been doused with a cold bucket of water. "I'm sorry do you have company?"

"I do now," she answered with beckoning eyes. I moved toward her against my own volition. I couldn't help myself. The desire I'd been ignoring was consuming me. I opened my mouth to speak but words failed me.

The intensity of her gaze ignited me, making me want to grab her into my arms and kiss her like there'd never been a rift between us. And I realized there no longer was a rift. I wanted _her _plain and simple. The pain I'd felt being apart from her out-weighed any heartache I'd had before and made it seem insignificant now. I'd had an epiphany tonight—_loving_ her was the only thing that mattered.

"Joe—"

She was in my arms in a split second. My lips cut off her soft sigh as she spoke my name. We shared a passionate kiss that made fireworks seem like fizzling, dying embers. Her arms wrapped around me, and I kissed the skin bared at her collarbone. I felt the cold links of the chain surrounding her neck, and my fingers dipped into the valley between the globes of her soft rounded breasts. Pulling the dangling pendant out from its hiding place, I saw it was the sapphire Christmas ring. My breathing quickened, and I knew no time and space would ever completely separate us again. Stephanie's eyes were glazed with a desire that matched my own in both intensity and purpose. Our lips connected again feverishly as we ended the long embargo on our passion.

"There's just one thing wrong with your outfit, Cupcake."

A hint of a smile laced her lips, and my eyes told her I wasn't joking.

"Oh yeah, Morelli? What's that?" she asked saucily, taking a breath before she kissed me madly.

"It has to go," I replied hoarsely. My passion for her was fast becoming a raging fire.

Grabbing for the zipper on her dress with one hand, I impatiently tore at the buttons on my shirt with the other. We peeled off clothing in record time, leaving a messy trail as I swooped her into my arms and carried her to the bedroom. I kissed her ravenously and thoroughly into moaning compliance. I wanted to be inside her so goddamned much that I couldn't stand any space dividing us anymore. It was as though I'd been in the friggin' desert for months searching for sustenance, and I'd found it finally in her.

Wearing those heels, my ring around her neck and nothing else, I began to satisfy my long denied desires by drinking in the view of her naked body. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. The bedside lamp cast a glow over her creamy skin, and my hands would not be deprived of access to her any longer. I couldn't get enough of her. It had been five of the most barren months of my life.

Total hell.

My voice shook with the effort to control my need for her.

"_You're absolutely the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on!"_

"_I love you, Joe. I want you so much!_" she whispered breathlessly. Her hands caressed my bare chest, and her eyes intimately signaled to me a desperate hunger. I became a love-struck casualty.

Finally giving up the fight going on inside of me, I capitulated into her arms. There was only ONE answer for me—YES! Yes, I wanted Stephanie, and YES I was willing to give up _anything_ to have her. If I lost my job, I'd find another. If I lost my possessions, I'd get more. As long as I never lost her again, I'd be happy.

I chose her!

I wasn't going to turn my back on what _I _needed. For the first time in my professional life I was going to be fucking selfish! There was no denying myself, the only thing I'd ever wanted—HER.

Our kissing and exploring of one another wasn't soft or tender. Our hands delved over each other obsessively and urgently as though they'd been locked away in separate prison cells for years and forbidden to touch the one thing they wanted the most.

Our panting breaths mixed with our murmured exclamations of satisfaction, and passion filled the night.

In one quick move, we made it to the bed. Stephanie's legs wrapped themselves around my body eagerly, urging me to join us together. All I wanted was to be inside of her and never part again. Locking gazes, I made it happen with one passionate thrust. We rocked together in undulating rhythm. Her back arched in gratification, and she moaned and pleaded with me to take her to the highest point of pleasure.

I groaned with the sheer thrill of being inside of her and holding her body as close as I could to mine. The elation of our union jolted us both. Emotions were bubbling to the surface as we felt the magic of our reunion, and what it meant for our future.

"My God, Joe!" Steph cried out. I made some responding sound that was pretty much unintelligible.

"This—is so good!" she gasped as the aftershocks shook her quivering body.

"Oh…God! I've missed you like crazy," I whispered into her ear. Nibbling on her neck, I made more little shivers run through her. That was one of her favorite foreplay spots. Okay, so I got it backward—sex first— foreplay afterward. Who the hell cared!

"I'm soooo glad you came," Steph giggled at the double entendre. Tickling her neck, I responded hoarsely, "Not as glad as I am."

I was still inside of her, and my desire for her mushroomed again after being kept in check for ages. Our guttural murmurings turned back into hard raspy breaths as we brought our bodies to passionate surrender once more, slowly taking our time to rediscover one another. We made up new words expressed in mumbled gibberish of how out of this world we felt being together again at last.

Our arms and legs were tangled, but we were afraid to ever let go again. Her body curled into mine, and her head rested on my chest. We both lay there unable to speak or express intelligibly what our thoughts were still processing.

Minutes passed, and my vision suddenly cleared. The only thing I'd seen or felt from the moment I'd walked into the apartment had been her. Now I was shocked at what surrounded me.

"My God, Cupcake, am I even in the right apartment?" I asked in amazement.

"Yep." She kissed my chest and rose up to look into my eyes. "You like it?"

I smiled, taking in the new surroundings. "Wow. It's almost unbelievable."

She chuckled. "You didn't even notice when you came in did you?"

"You mean—"

"I redid the entire apartment. _You didn't even see it_!" She laughed in amused pleasure.

"How could I? I only saw you. Steph, you were a sight for some very homesick eyes."

"Am I—"

"_You're home _to me, Stephanie. You always have been."

Tears formed in her eyes, and I lifted my head to kiss her. She met my lips kiss for kiss, and I heard her soft murmur. "I'm so happy you're home, Joe."

"Me too."

My decision was made. It had been the moment I knocked on her door. I wasn't going to choose the job and the duty anymore. I chose Stephanie, and it felt right and long overdue. Smiling, I felt the tears of relief burning behind my eyes. I was going to have that family after all. I was going to put that platinum band on her finger, and we were going to have a life together. It was about fucking time!

I kissed her and felt the warmth growing inside, knowing this was just the beginning for us—only this time there'd never be an end.

"So Cupcake, how is it you were perfectly dressed for my visit—stilettos and all?" I was curious but not jealous.

"I went out to dinner with my family for Val's birthday. I fell asleep on the couch for a while and had just awakened right before you knocked on the door. When I answered it, I thought I was still dreaming."

"When you answered it, I thought I'd gone back in time," I confided in her.

She nodded while tracing her fingers along my chest. "All that was missing was the Pino's pizza and the beer." She and I clasped hands, fondly remembered our history.

She got up and turned her body to face me, looking me in the eyes and shaking her head. I could see the tears forming, and I felt mine burning as well.

"I love you so much!" She smiled the smile that warmed me like the sun.

"I love you too, Stephanie, and that's never going to change."

"If it ever does, Morelli, I'll kick your ass!" She reverted to the tough Jersey girl.

"It never will." I assured her, taking her chin between two fingers and kissing her soundly.

She whispered shyly. "So does this mean—"

"I'm _there_, Stephanie—and _this is when_!" We locked gazes and smiled as we committed to "when" wordlessly.

"I couldn't stand it if you ever said goodbye to me again, Morelli."

"This isn't goodbye. It's hello. And it's not 'hey I'd like to stay awhile'. It's 'I'd like to stay—forever'."

Tears fell down her cheek,s and I brushed them away. "Does this mean you've forgiven—"

I cut her words off with a deeply passionate kiss. "It's all in the past. We're starting over _right_ now. We've both made mistakes, but we've learned from them, and now we're both ready. This is _our_ beginning."

She showered me with kisses, and we started to laugh like little kids who'd been let outside to play after being housebound over a long, grey winter.

She pulled herself away from me suddenly and got a mischievous look on her face.

"I want to show you the apartment, Joe." She looked like an excited teenager again, her blue eyes opened wide with anticipation.

"Now?" I asked reluctantly, preferring a different form of exploring.

"Yeah now. I've been wanting you to see it for _ages._"

She scrambled out of bed, pulling me with her as she wrapped a sheet around her body. I managed to pull on my pants while she waited impatiently, and then grabbing my hand again, she lead the way to the living room.

I let out a low appreciative whistle. She'd totally changed everything in the apartment. Earlier I'd been so distracted at the sight of her standing there in that sexy dress and those passion-inducing shoes, I'd totally missed everything else. Taking in the dining and living room areas, I felt pride welling in my throat.

"This looks so great, Steph." I told her sincerely.

"I can't believe you didn't even notice it! So much for your powers of observation," she teased with twinkling eye.

"It's _all_ your fault, Cupcake. Your beauty blinded me to anything else," I told her with a cheeky grin. Her wordless, arched eyebrow sufficiently nagged me. "I'm looking, I'm looking!" I laughed.

"You like it?" she asked shyly.

"It's like a different place. Am I even in the right apartment building? _You did this_?" I looked at her with admiration.

"Yeah. Well mostly. Dillon helped me with the painting and the light fixtures—that kind of stuff."

"The colors... It's really nice."

She looked happy I found it appealing.

"I did the kitchen too. Do you want to see?"

"Of course I do, Cupcake."

I couldn't stop smiling at all the changes she'd made. The kitchen was no longer a hodgepodge of this and that in every nook and cranny. Everything placed on the shiny new counters and on the shelves looked like it belonged there and served a functional purpose. The colors were soothing, and it looked like it could have been belonged to some happy family on a damned sitcom.

She blew me away. I never expected Stephanie to change the way she had—from a kind of bohemian-gypsy, wild action hero into a bohemian-gypsy, more grounded, action hero. I'd grown to love her and accept her as she always was. She could have stayed that way forever, and I'd still love her. But this was a whole new, incredibly surprising side to her I never knew had existed.

Pulling me by the hand, she led me back into the bedroom. She quickly adjusted the bedcovers so I could get the full idea of how the room would look when the bed was made. It was every bit as eye-catching as the other rooms. The word to describe it was peaceful—not a word often associated with my Stephanie. I could see now she'd been making both inner and outer changes.

Why hadn't noticed this before? There was definitely something more mature about her. I'd felt it the moment I walked into the apartment. I wasn't seeing the wayward teenager, or the careless bounty hunter anymore. I was seeing Stephanie—the _woman_. She'd always been there but had gone into hiding when things got rough sometimes. I felt strongly she was here to stay now. _This_ woman would not run away. She was ready to commit herself to me. And God knows I was more than ready to entrust myself to her.

"You made this place into a _home_. It's _really_ nice." It struck me she could make ourhome this inviting.

"Thanks." she nodded with shining eyes. Guiding me away from the bedroom into the bathroom, she added, "We changed the tile in here."

"What? Are you kiddin' me? No more orange and brown? I bet you miss it!" I teased her, knowing all too well how she hated the God awful color combination she'd had to live with for years. As I guy, I could have cared less. But it was nice to see her happy, and the place looked incredible. I could tell she'd really put a lot of thought and effort into it.

Pleasure beamed in her eyes. "I thought it was time to grow up and live in a grown up place."

"It's great! You did a remarkable job, Cupcake."

"Thanks." She smiled, and I could see she was proud of herself.

She was living in a grown up place _inside _herself too. _That was the change_. She was not longer antsy or running on frantic energy. The indecisiveness was gone. She knew what she wanted, and for some inexplicable reason, _I _was what she wanted. I was the luckiest son of a bitch on earth.

S_he'd chosen me_!

Why had I ever doubted it? I'd chosen her too. I would a zillion times over. At eight years old, I'd been right to fall in love with the perfect girl for me.

Steph was watching me quietly, a small secret smile playing about her lips. The old Stephanie would have been plying me with questions and trying to get into my head. The new one was more poised and didn't need to be reassured of my love. I could see the difference so easily now standing in the midst of her _complete_ metamorphosis.

The peacefulness I felt came from _within_ her. She _was_ growing up. She'd _made_ all these changes. I could tell from the look in her eyes she wanted my approval. She was waiting for me to acknowledge what she'd already known all along and had been trying for a long time to get me to see—she wasn't a helpless little girl or a teenager with insecurities and a bag full of wishful dreams. She was a woman—a Wonder Woman full of strength, hidden talents, endurance, and intelligence and armed with spot-on intuition and a kick ass attitude that would see her though anything and everything. Suddenly, it hit me.

_I'd_ always needed her more than she'd _ever_ needed me.

"You're such an _amazing, beautiful_ woman, Stephanie."

Her eyes filled with tears, and her mouth slowly formed a smile.

"You really think so, Morelli?"

"God yes! If I never told you that enough, I'm telling you now. You're the _woman_ I've always wanted."

"And you're the _man_ I've always wanted." She wasn't afraid to let me know her feelings anymore. It felt so damned good to know we were on the same page, feeling the same way. It meant nothing and no one would ever come between us again!

AMEN!

"Joe, have we finally gotten it right?" she asked tentatively.

"This is forever, Cupcake."

She rocketed right into my arms, and the kisses quickly turned us back into whimpering, sex-crazed lovers. After so much time apart, we had a lot of time to make up for, and I spent the rest of the night and late into the next morning making a sincere effort to accomplish it.

The next morning we were sitting in the dining room sharing an eccentric breakfast combination of peanut butter sandwiches and warmed up pasta from her family dinner the night before.

"I guess this means you're going to be coming back to my parent's for the weekly dinners—right?" she tested me with a grin.

"I wouldn't miss them—I _did_ miss them!" I was as surprised to say it, as she was to hear it.

"My mother and Grandma never stopped setting an extra place for you, Joe."

That made me smile.

"Her brow furrowed a little, and she bit her lip.

"What about that out of town assignment?"

"What out of town assignment?" I shrugged my shoulders. "NO, I'm not leaving you. I choose you. The damned FBI can just find someone else!"

She was in my lap as soon as the word NO was out of my mouth, showering me with happy kisses and holding my face in her hands.

"Whoa! If I'd known refusing assignments was going to make you do this, Steph, I'd have said no a long time ago."

"Morelli, you don't know what it means to know you'd stay here with me rather than take the job, I know how much you love—"

"I love YOU! I _want _to be with you! That's it. I don't want to waste ONE more fucking minute!"

"I don't either!"

"Okay then—we're making progress." I grinned at her, feeling like the happiest idiot alive.

"We are," she agreed. "You want to make some more in the shower?"

"I thought you'd never ask, Cupcake."

**Steph's POV**

Standing by my door, we looked longingly into one another's eyes. My hands were holding Joe's shirt. I didn't want him to leave—ever. Oddly, more than that, I wanted to keep him attached to my hip like a barnacle. Okay, so we'd have to take separate turns in the bathroom and maybe come up for air and food every now and then, but that was the _only _apart I wanted for us ever again.

"I don't want you to leave," I told him between kisses, trying to force myself to let go of his shirt.

He seemed to be having an equally hard time parting from me, because for every kiss I gave him, he gave me two more. He kept fingering through my curls as though he wanted to pull me too him and never let go.

"I don't want to go either, Cupcake, but I have to go home and change and make sure my neighbor walked Bob. The sooner I get to work the sooner I'll be back."

"You promise—tonight after the meeting?" I hummed against his lips.

"Wild criminals wouldn't stop me!" He kissed me very thoroughly to make sure I knew he meant his words. He'd said from that moment on I came first. I'd take precedence over everything else.

"Okay get out of here, Morelli, before I change my mind and drag you right back into the bedroom!"

"Drag huh?" He grinned. "I don't think dragging would be necessary. I'd go willingly, Cupcake." He held his wrists together like he was ready for me to cuff him. _Oh_ if only I could.

We kissed about ten times more, until I finally let him go. I could wait. It was only a few hours, and I needed some time to figure out what I wanted to surprise him with when he came back.

"Bye," I batted my eyelashes at him comically.

"You're such a flirt, Plum." He winked and walked away. Happily, I indulged myself in looking at the finest ass in Trenton walking down my hallway.

"Enjoy the view, Cupcake!" He chuckled, knowing me all too well.

"Oh I am!" I smiled. I was totally enthralled with the view.

I watched from the kitchen window as Joe got into his SUV. He smiled up at me and waved; somehow knowing I would be there. After I watched him pull away, I gave a shout of happiness I'd been holding in ever since he showed up the night before.

"YES!"

I spun around and let the wonderful moment penetrate my senses. Joe and I were finally together again! I'd almost given up on it ever happening. I let myself revel in it for a moment, feeling a joy I hadn't had since I was a young child. The emotions were so powerful I could hardly contain them.

Tears started to course down my cheeks, but they weren't tears of sadness or sorrow anymore. I felt happy—blissfully happy. I'd never known that feeling as an adult. I'd been too busy running to ever stop and allow myself the joy of it. Joe brought that to me. I didn't ever want to lose it now that I'd found it again. I'd loved him so damned much for so long!

He'd given up his out of town assignment! He'd chosen me over the work that he loved. We were going to have a future together. I was going to wake up with him every morning and lie in his arms every night. I laughed incredulously when I realized that me—Stephanie Plum—and Joe Morelli, the naughty boy from down the block who'd grown up into the finest man I'd ever known, were going to have an amazing future—together forever!

He'd promised to come back tonight after his evening meeting.

Home.

He'd called me his home. He was mine, and I was his. It didn't matter where we lived or what we did anymore. It only mattered we were together, and that I'd never take the way Joe cared for me and loved me for granted ever again.

I wanted tonight to be perfect—to give Joe a memory he'd never forget. I was going to start by surprising him with one of my home-cooked meals. Then I'd give him a nice long massage, bringing his tense muscles and strained back to blissful relaxation. I'd wear something sexy, starting with the heels I'd gotten for New Year's Eve, and then I'd make sure we had plenty of delicious dessert—and cake too.

Morelli was going to be so damned spoiled, but he deserved it. I wanted to indulge him every chance I got. This was no longer going to be a one and a half-sided relationship. I was going to give him everything I had and more. If by chance someday soon Joe asked me to marry him, my answer would be yes! Holy Matrimony didn't scare the shit out of me anymore as long as the marriage was with Joe.

Joe would to be the happiest married man who ever lived! We'd be the _most unconventional _and groundbreaking couple ever to take our vows. We'd make our lives together something all _our own_. I felt excitement course through me, realizing _our _marriage would be, without a doubt, the best adventure of my life. I couldn't wait to begin _our_ adventure tonight.

**Joe's POV**

I had gotten though the rest of the day counting the minutes until I could get to be with Stephanie again. Instead I was sitting here, in this damned meeting, blowing out the wave of frustration and disappointment that was coursing over me.

What is the old saying-_The road to hell is paved with good intentions?_

God, had I ever paved that road with mine.

Here I'd just promised Stephanie she came before my job and _our relationship_ was going to be my top priority from now on. Less than twenty-four hours later I was breaking both of those promises. I couldn't believe what happened after I left her. One minute we'd been back together, sitting on cloud nine, and the next my dreams had come crashing back to earth.

The Three Stooges were staring me down. They'd just heard me tell them thanks for thinking of me, but you'll need to check that short list of yours for someone else. My decision was met with deafening silence, and then Griffin pulled something from his briefcase and slid it across the table toward me.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Joe you better take a look at this before you make your final decision."

"It doesn't matter what's in that file. My decision is made."

"_Read it_!" Brooks ordered.

I opened the file, and my mouth fell open with it.

My heart immediately sank. Scanning the report, I knew the choice I'd made was no longer within my control. I looked up in anger, wanting to strangle all three of them.

"What is this bullshit? Where did it come from? Why is Stephanie's name the only thing legible in this encrypted message?"

"We don't know, Joe," Griffin began. "We intercepted it, and we've been trying to crack the code ever since. It came from a prepaid cell phone we cannot trace back to anyone. One of the dog teams detected it in the prison yard under a garbage can. We found the message on it, and, coincidently or not, on two other prepaid cell phones confiscated in the Newark prison a few days later. The three messages were encrypted in the exact same way."

He continued, "The only thing we know for sure is that Stephanie Plum is definitely on one of the prisoner's minds. The trouble is we don't know if it's Blutto's doing or someone else's. She's made more than a few enemies over the years as a bounty hunter."

My eyes closed, and my head began to throb.

"I don't believe this! Why the hell didn't you tell me before?"

"We've been trying to get more information, but so far the code has been indecipherable. We've got our best people on it. Stephanie is under surveillance and being monitored twenty-four seven." Griffin was full of surprises tonight.

Hearing that Stephanie was being watched by the Feds and knowing I'd been with her all night made me angry. I hadn't known she was being watched. Why hadn't I seen it? I should've been used to it after all the damned Rangeman surveillance.

"When we saw you visiting last night, I called my men off." Griffin offered an olive branch.

"Thank you." Okay, that explained something.

"We knew she'd be in good hands," Brooks joked, only I wasn't laughing.

"I don't _believe_ this. I still don't understand why you didn't tell me before!"

"We figured you'd say yes to our request. It didn't seem fair to alarm you when we had so little information. The cell phones with the last two messages were only confiscated two days ago. You've never turned down a job before. We figured you'd decide to do it regardless of the information in that file. And to be honest, we don't know if someone's just talking about her, shooting the breeze, or if there is some kind of plot afoot that includes harming her or worse."

"I need to protect her! I can't go into the prison to do it. I need to be by her side and watch over her!"

"Joe, you and I both know NOTHING you do for her out here will equal what you can do in _there_. If this threat came from Blutto, then she's as good as dead. Mob hit men very rarely miss their targets," Michaels tried reasoning with me.

"But we don't know that's what this is? This could be someone just saying she's—" I couldn't think of a damned thing someone in prison would be referring to Stephanie about that wouldn't be either lewd or life threatening. Shit!

SHIT!

"We need you IN there, Joe. You might be the only one who can stop this maniac from succeeding at his agenda, which could very well include Stephanie Plum. He would have the biggest vendetta against her and, of course, that Mooner guy. Their statements were what helped put him behind bars." Michaels was explaining what my mind was already deducing.

I remembered again the look in Blutto's eyes when he growled at Stephanie the day he was arrested. "You!" One fucking word had said it all. I knew he was filled with anger and blamed her for his arrest. Why did he single her out when the place was crawling with FBI and policemen?

I knew why. Because Blutto had it in for women. We'd found out more about his background. His mother had abused him as a child, and he'd taken that abuse as an adult and turned it on other women. He'd been married four times, and I knew he had a history of wife-beating. We couldn't get any of his former wives to agree to testify against him, because they were terrified of his retribution.

He hated women. He abused them. He wouldn't stop at having the woman he'd obviously chosen to blame for all his troubles killed. Stephanie was in grave danger, and she would be until Blutto was stopped.

FUCK!

"We just got back together. I promised her I wasn't going anywhere."

"Joe, of course it's _your_ decision."

_NO! _It wasn't my decision. My decision had been fucking made! Who the fuck out there hated me? I mean how in the hell could this be happening now?

I faced Griffin, wanting answers. I knew what the answer was already. I didn't want to face it.

"How can you protect her any better than me? You said yourself that if the mob wants to target her, she's as good as dead. What can YOU do better than what I can? I'll take her away, and we'll just hide. I am NOT going to let some lunatic, who's supposed to be locked away from doing her harm, continue to haunt her from prison, reaching out his tentacles like a fucking octopus to screw up our lives!"

"We _CAN_ protect her while you're in the prison doing your job, Joe."

"NO!" I rose to my feet.

I stared at them like they were monsters. How in the hell had this happened? I felt instantly weary. All the renewed energy I'd felt since leaving Steph's apartment had disappeared.

"Why can't you help protect her if _I_ stay _out_ here with her?"

"You know we'll do what we can, but without concrete evidence against Blutto or whoever this is, we can't do much. The budget for—"

"Christ! You're going to quibble about money and budgets when someone's life hangs in the balance! She's NOT just _someone _to me."

"Joe, the bottom line is simple. Are you willing to take a chance and let anybody else go into that prison to get Blutto, or are you going to do it yourself? We know you can outsmart him at his own game, and Stephanie will be safe if that happens. You've got your own agenda. No other man we put in there would have that. You're the best man for this job, because you know what's at stake. You'll make sure that imbecile gets what's coming to him."

They were right. Blutto or whoever was making Stephanie a part of their useless existence was going to have to answer to me! If it was the last thing I did, I'd STOP them from ever harming a hair on her beautiful head.

"I want to tell Stephanie about this. She needs to know to be careful. And she needs to know why I have to take this job."

"That's not possible at this time. We have elements in the works that will ensure her protection while you're in prison doing _your _job. We know her life will be in danger from other factions. If they connect her to you, they could use her to strong-arm your cooperation. We have machinery in place to ward more threats away from her."

My eyebrows knit together. What the hell kind of machinery was he referring to? I knew every tactic, law enforcement used to protect possible targets and divert attention from them. My mouth opened to question what I'd heard, but Brooks put his hand up to signal my silence.

"At this time there's no immediate proof to suggest she _needs_ to know about this. As for her knowing about what _you're_ doing-absolutely NOT! This is a top security clearance investigation, and on a need to know basis. She has _no business_ knowing. I'm sorry, but_ your request is denied._

Oh God, I had to go back on my promises, for her own good, and yet I wasn't even going to be able to tell her why!

"She'll never understand. You should have TOLD me everything when you asked me to do this fucking job!"

"Well you know everything now." I wanted to punch the living daylights out of Brooks and his sanctimonious attitude.

_Shit!_ I got up. There was nothing left to say. My decision had been made. I'd run out of options. Funny how the following three little words could mean the beginning of a relationship and a life together, or they could mean the end of it altogether.

"_I'll do it."_

The Three Stooges all let out a collective breath. Ironically, I was holding mine.

"You will not tell Ms. Plum _ANYTHING _about what you are doing. Is that understood, Detective Morelli?" Griffin got all hard-nosed.

"Yeah. Right," I mumbled. I wasn't looking forward to the rest of the night ahead of me. Stephanie would want to kill me before it was over.

I'd been dying to get back to her. Now it looked like I'd probably just be dying period. No reunion—no life with her. As long as I could keep her _safe and alive,_ I'd gladly give up my own life. I didn't even want to think about her being in danger. I'd stop that son of bitch if it was the LAST thing I ever did! I had renewed energy and strength by the ton now, because I had a purpose and I wasn't going to quit until I finished what I'd set out to do. I'd fight for Stephanie until my dying breath.

I made the short drive to Stephanie's apartment building. I pulled into the parking lot.

I sat in my SUV in the same spot as the night before. Less than twenty-four hours had passed. Looking up at those lights again, I thought about how happy I'd been there just that morning. Now my world had ended all over again. Hurting Stephanie was going to be gut-wrenching, but it had to be done. _God!_ I wished I could tell her the truth. I'd never been more tempted to violate my orders and tell her everything, but I knew she'd NEVER let me do the job. She'd find some way to put herself in grave danger, using herself as bait or some other crazy plan, in order to save me from having to go into the prison.

I had to do it without her knowing. Stephanie's life was in my hands, and there wasn't another soul I'd trust with that.

Forcing myself to get out of the car, I headed up to her apartment and used the key she'd given back to me that morning. I let myself in and smiled sadly when I saw the candles lit all over the apartment. Soft jazzy music was emitting from the CD player, and I noticed the table in the dining room was set for two with wine glasses and more candles.

_Shit!_

She came out of the bedroom dressed in the sexy black dress she'd worn a few years back—the night she'd called and asked me over. It was my favorite, and as my eyes took her in, I noticed she was also wearing the erotic New Year's Eve heels I'd never gotten the chance to enjoy. Oh my God! This was going to be so fucking hard!

I wanted to take her in my arms and tell her we were going away forever. We'd escape to some island somewhere, and I'd get a boat and take up fishing for a living. We'd be happy and alive together—forever.

"Joe what's wrong?" Stephanie closed the distance between us and reached out a hand to my cheek. "Did something happen?"

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" I asked, avoiding the question.

She smiled, and I indulged myself with a kiss. Christ, I just wanted those kisses to go on and on. It took massive effort on my part to pull away from her, and she looked at me questioningly.

"We have to talk, Cupcake." I grabbed her hand, and we sat down together on the couch.

"You're scaring me, Joe. What's wrong?" Her eyes conveyed her fear.

"I know—I said—" I struggled for words to try and explain what was happening. "I promised you the job wasn't going to take precedence over _US_ anymore, and I really meant it, Steph."

"I _know_ you did, so what's this about?" Her voice rose slightly.

"There isn't anyone else who can do the assignment as well as I can."

"What?" She stood. I could tell she was already angry. Worse yet, she was disappointed in me.

"Steph, please sit down and hear me out."

"You're going to do it. You're going to leave town—leave me."

"I don't want to. I swear to you I don't!"

"What is this assignment that means more to you than me?" She looked like she wanted to slap me and moved further away from me.

"I can't tell you the details. You don't know how much I want too! Keeping anything from you kills me!"

"Then don't! Tell me! You can trust me. I won't tell anyone. I promise!"

"I can't! Stephanie, I'm under the strictest of security clearance restrictions. I asked if I could tell you and was forbidden by Brooks and the FBI."

"I hate this!"

"Me too," I agreed—more than she'd ever know.

"Then don't go. If you don't _want_ to go, then don't do it!"She backed away from my hand that kept trying in vain to reach for hers.

"It's NOT that simple."

"Yes, it is!"

"No, it's NOT!" I told her again, feeling the old argumentative side of us coming back. I hated like hell to end things with her on an angry note, but I might not have a choice. It didn't seem like she was going to see my side of this at all.

"Joe, if you want to truly be with me—to be a part of US—then you'll turn this job down flat and choose me! You said you were going to this morning." She let out a mirthless laugh. "Boy, I should have known! It sure didn't take long!"

"Steph, it's my job. You have to listen to reason here."

"All I'm listening to is your ego talking! You say you're the best man for the job! I say bullshit! Anyone can do it. You're not some superhero who has magic powers no one else has! You could let this go if you really wanted to!" She was completely livid with me. Maybe her hating my guts would be the best way for this to end. She wouldn't seek me out or be a slave to her natural curiosity. Whenever I'd secrets in the past, she'd always snooped around to figure out what they were. If she had an inkling of the truth, she'd be on me like white on rice.

"You think I want to be a superhero? That's the last thing I want to be! I just want to be an ordinary guy. What about you, Wonder Woman, and that damned job of yours!"

"Shit, here we go again!" She took off the enticing earrings dangling from her ears and threw them on the side table. I saw the rebellion on her face as she kicked off the stilettos too.

"Here we go again is right! I'm a trained professional expected to do what needs to be done! _They_ need me."

"_I NEED you!_" I was surprised at the depth of her admission. Usually she would have latched onto the digs at the bounty hunting and been ready to kick my sorry ass. _God, the last thing I wanted was a fight._

"I NEED you too, Steph. I admitted in a softer tone. "This doesn't change ANYTHING. I love you. I just have a job to do. When I get back—"

"No!" She shook her head. "You can't go, Joe, I've had a bad feeling about this ever since you mentioned it on New Year's Day. _PLEASE-_I've never interfered before, but I don't want you to go _this_ time. I'm _begging_ you-for _us—don't go."_

"Stephanie, listen to me. I have no choice. I already committed to it tonight."

"Without even talking to me first!" she accused in a shrill voice. Her eyes filled with tears.

"Cupcake."

"No. Don't you Cupcake me! What kind of relationship is this? You promised me this morning we'd be together! What the hell does that mean to you, Joe? You said you weren't taking this job. Then you go off and hours later change your mind without so much as a word to me!"

"There wasn't a choice, okay? That's all I can say. I have to do my job!"

"Fine. You go ahead and do your _job_! But get the hell OUT of my place!" she screamed, and I knew it wasn't because she was angry as much as in pain. I'd hurt her again! It was something I'd vowed never to willfully do again.

"You don't mean that!"

"Yes, I do." She looked at me as though she didn't recognize me anymore.

"I can't leave it like this. Please Steph, try to understand."

"I don't!" Her voice cracked in sadness.

"I know. Sometimes I don't either," I confessed. "The only thing I know is that I love you, and I don't want to lose you—ever!"

Her eyes softened slightly.

"Then don't do the job. PLEASE don't!"

"Steph, listen—

She put her hand through her hair and her eyes were accusing.

"This is why Hawaii happened. Do you remember how I asked you to GO with me? But you couldn't! You were always too busy working. Your job has always taken the top priority with you! Did you even think about how lonely it would feel to be in that beautiful place without you? I felt like you were rejecting me! You chose a fucking pile of paperwork and murder cases over being with ME! Now we FINALLY get back together, and, not twenty-four hours later, here we are! You're doing it all over again!"

"This isn't like Hawaii at all! I wanted with all my heart to go with you, and I showed up, didn't I? Remember? And where did that get me!"

_I _was angry now. How in the hell do we always find our way back to that fucking day? Ranger had stolen too much already. I wasn't about to let him become the reason for another argument. Hell, I didn't even want to argue. All I wanted was to hold her again and forget the nightmare quickly taking over my life.

"I don't want to talk about Hawaii. It's in the past," I said sadly.

"FINE! Then what about here and now? I did _everything_ for you! I took a good hard look at myself and saw the things I needed to change. I wanted you to see me as a grown woman. I wanted you to love me and want to be with me. Everything I've worked so hard on—all of it was for you!"

She walked to a leather recliner facing the TV, pointing at it like an enemy. "This goddamned chair was FOR YOU! I picked it out so when you came home after a long day, you'd have a place to relax. You think I haven't noticed you holding your back, wincing in pain? I bought it for YOU! You can't even give up ONE damned job for _us_!" She was so pissed at me. I could feel her frustration and the pain of what she perceived as another rejection.

Walking to the opposite side of the chair, I faced her. My heart melted when I realized she'd thought of me the whole time we were apart. "This is perfect. Thank you for thinking of me, Cupcake."

She burst into angry tears. "I always think of you! Why can't you for ONCE think of _us_! I want you to SIT in the fucking chair!"

I shook my head, my eyes gazing into hers apologetically. Letting out a long sigh, I did as she asked. She saw me sitting there and started crying harder. I took advantage of the moment and pulled her onto my lap. Her body was still and unyielding, but I wrapped my arms around her anyway.

"Stephanie, I know you're hurting," I murmured, "but there are some things I need to say to you. Please try to get past your pain right now to hear them."

She gulped back a sob. She was holding her stomach as if she was about to be sick. "What difference does it make what you say now? You want to go-so go!"

"I don't want to leave! God, if you only knew how much I don't! I love you. Don't ever doubt that!"

I reached out to touch the sapphire ring shimmering against her skin. My fingers slid around her neck and undid the clasp on the chain. Removing the ring, I gently took Steph's left hand in mine and slid it onto the third finger of her left hand.

"With this ring I pledge my love to you, Stephanie Plum forever. Wherever you are-no matter where I am-I will be there for you. There is _nowhere_ else I want to be. I promise you that." I kissed the ring to seal my vow. "I want you to be happy more than anything else in this world. That's what's most important to me."

Tears were falling down her cheeks, and I was surprised to find one escaping down mine as well. She was shaking her head in denial, but she was looking longingly into my eyes too. I took that as a sign I could keep talking.

"This love of ours is something that can't be broken. God knows we've both given it a hard enough yank. But though it became fragile and very nearly dropped, it has _never_ shattered. And it never will. If you need me, Cupcake, just call out for me, and I'll be with you wherever I am."

"I'm calling you now, Joe. Are you going to be with me now?"

"I am with you." I gently touched the spot over her heart.

"God! I'm so confused. I don't understand this at all! You promised me, Joe! You lied to me. You're always going on and on about telling the truth and then you lied!"

"I haven't lied about _anything_! Please, Stephanie, can we have this one _last _moment? I know you're angry and upset, but I _need _this before I go. I'm not sure when this job is going to happen, and I need _us_ for tonight. Can you give me that? Can you _trust _me?"

"No!" She got up out of my lap. She had that look of betrayal in her eyes I'd never wanted to see again. "NO! If you walk out that door, don't come back. I can't take this anymore. I can't play second fiddle to anyone or anything else. I don't want either of us to be lonely in this relationship. I know we both were at times. That's not how it's supposed to be."

"If I could tell you, you'd understand all of it, and you'd support me. I keep hoping you will anyway."

"Well I don't! You can't divulge your precious secrets, so I can't be expected to understand what your choice is!" She folded her arms across her chest. "I think you need to leave. You're going to anyway, so just go."

I heard her hard, gut-twisting sobs as I turned toward the door. Turning back instantly, I walked straight to her and took her into my arms. She looked as devastated as I felt.

She wasn't responsive as I put my arms around her. Showering her face with light kisses, I teased her lips gently and finally her arms went around my neck. I kissed her with the horrible feeling it might be the last time, thus I tried to convey everything to her in that kiss. All my love, loyalty, devotion, amazement, sorrow, forgiveness, and a life-long commitment to her was in that kiss. She returned the kiss passionately, and I could feel her confusion and sorrow. It broke my heart.

It took gargantuan effort to pull away from her. Looking deeply into her eyes, I whispered, "Trust me Cupcake. That's all I ask. Please just trust me."

She nodded almost imperceptibly, and I caressed her cheek gently. Turning, I walked out the door to face a totally uncertain future.

The next day was torture. I really wanted to call Steph and make sure she was all right, but I didn't, thinking it best to leave things as they were. I'd only cause her more pain and confusion. I felt damned confused too. Things had changed on me so fast I was still in shock.

I buried myself in work as usual and tried to focus on what was in front of me. Another meeting had been scheduled with my superiors. In my mind, they'd gone from the Three Stooges to the Three Assholes! Micheals had promised me I'd get some answers regarding their plans for my stay in prison. I had to wonder what to expect—a spa plan complete with matching towels? Not likely.

Grabbing some take out, I raced home to walk Bob. Then I was summoned to the scene of another grizzly homicide. Now I had even MORE paperwork to keep me busy until it was time to go to the conference room for the dreaded meeting. My stomach felt like racing acid, and my head was throbbing.

Walking into the conference room, my eyes did a double take as I saw all the people who were already in attendance. Captain Michaels was there, along with Commissioner Brooks and of course the FBI rep Griffin. But what I didn't understand and what stopped me dead in my tracks was that Kate was there too. And sitting next to her was the _last _person I ever wanted or expected to see.

Ranger Manoso.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**Not my characters and no profit**

**Carol, you always guide me in exactly the right direction. I am beyond grateful for you, and our friendship. I am having such a great time sharing this experience with you. You are ONE extremely talented woman! **

**Thanks everyone who is reading and reviewing. It means a lot to me.**

**Joe's POV**

I had a moment of feeling like I must have entered the Twilight Zone, and I'm not talking about a Blood Sucking Vampire story here. I'm talking a surreal, impossible situation somewhere between science fiction, horror and a fucking horrible practical joke.

What in the hell was Manoso doing there? What business did he have attending a meeting about a top-secret, covert operation led by the FBI that involved _me_? And why was Kate looking like she wanted to slide down in her chair and disappear?

Captain Michaels interrupted my thoughts. "Joe, you're just in time. Take a seat."

I didn't want to take a frickin' seat! The feelings I'd had all along about there being more to the operation than anyone was telling me, ran over me again like a tank.

"I don't understand what—"

"We'll explain everything. Have a seat, Morelli," Commissioner Brooks commanded, seated at one end of the conference table. His puffy cheeks were beet red. His beady black eyes were unreadable, and his offer for me to sit down was more of a demand than a request.

FBI suit Thomas Griffin was at the other end of the table. His right hand combed through his thick, blonde hair as he tried to look busy shuffling papers with his left hand. Kate, Captain Michaels and Manoso were all seated across the table.

I sat on the opposite side of the table alone. Throwing my phone onto the Formica table with my keys, I had a feeling this little party wasn't going to be short or sweet. Why was it I felt like I was facing a Spanish inquisition, or worse yet a firing squad?

I tried to get my bearings. What the fuck? This was MY precinct. My territory. How the hell was it that I felt as though _I _was the interloper?

I sat there sizing up the situation, honing into the body language of the room's occupants. _Calm down, Joe—take it easy. There has to be a reasonable explanation._ I mentally snorted. _Right!_

"Joe," Michaels folded his hands and made direct eye contact with me, "as you know, we have great concern for your safety upon your entrance into the New Jersey State Prison. We have communicated this situation to Joe Juniak, our esteemed former colleague and the Governor of our fine state. Governor Juniak wanted you to know he sends his best wishes for your success. He's always said you're one of our best men on the force. He was very concerned about you being able to continue in that capacity once this operation is over. He made a strong suggestion we contact Ranger Manoso, a friend of his, to help us with our objective by ensuring the best possible security measures will be in place." He cleared his throat and took a breath.

How fucking much more of this pomp and circumstance shit was going to come at me before someone would speak freaking English? Did Michaels really believe I'd buy his stupid line of horseshit? God! Who died and made this precinct into a bunch of friggin' suits? It was like an alien ship beamed down a different version of everyone in the room— except _the _suit Griffin. I had no doubt he'd been that way since he was born.

Michaels was finally wrapping up his spiel, "To that end we think we have come up with the BEST foolproof plan possible for your success."

MORE bullshit! And this on top of the fact Ranger Manoso was in charge of _my _safety while I posed as a convict in prison. What a good laugh he must have had when Joe Juniak made _that_ call! _Shit_! And I thought my life couldn't get any worse!

"I'll turn the floor over to Mr. Manoso so he can fill you in on our plans," Michaels added, raising his high and mighty eyebrows.

_Our_ plans! The nerve of them! It was _MY_ life! I should've been in on every piece of information and any idiotic plan they'd ever devised. _Damn it!_ I wanted to tell them all to go to hell! I had to remind myself I was doing this for Stephanie. That was the ONLY reason I didn't get up and walk the hell out of there for good. I counted to ten, then twenty. I wasn't good at keeping my temper, especially since I felt like I'd been jerked around twice and back again.

Manoso opened a folder then closed it. He made eye contact with me, and I felt all the animosity I usually did when I so much as allowed myself a thought of him. My eyes shot daggers at Ranger. There was NO love lost between us. I wasn't even sure if we could work together anymore as we had in the past. Why in the hell did he of all people have to be involved in this!

"My company and my resources will be totally available to the FBI and the New Jersey State Prison System for this operation. No plan is foolproof. We think we've come up with one that is as close as you can get. Joe Juniak made it his express wish that Detective Morelli come out of this in one piece. My team is prepared to do whatever is necessary to make that happen."

I almost snorted out loud then. _Bafuckingloney!_ If Manoso had his way, I'd probably become fish-food the first night of my stay in jail. Why in the hell would he want to keep me alive? If I died, he'd have an open playing field with Stephanie. I was supposed to put _my_ life in _his _hands—no way!

This whole convoluted mess just kept going from bad to worse by the minute. And what version of Manoso was this anyway? I'd never even heard Ranger speak in complete sentences before. He was actually stringing them together like a fucking politician. Who knew?

Manoso was flapping his mouth some more, and then his hand made an introduction motion in direction of Kate

"The first part of the operation was begun by Meghan Sullivan. You know her as Kate O'Grady."

My mouth fell open. _Shit._ Apparently I hadn't been waiting for just one shoe to drop. There was a whole fucking closet _full _of them!

She at least had the grace to look embarrassed. Who the hell was Meghan Sullivan? And what kind of sick, twisted sport had she been playing with me? It only made me see how deluded and lonely I'd been to even be tempted by this phony imposter. I would've made the biggest mistake of my life if I'd given into that temptation. She was like a chameleon changing her colors to fit her latest agenda. I must have been missing Stephanie like crazy not to see this about her from the get go.

Ranger arched an eyebrow as he continued with more of his bogus filibustering. "Meghan was brought here to work on establishing your cover as a crooked cop. She's been laying the groundwork to make sure all the evidence comes to light at the exact time we need it to in order for you to be arrested. You will plead guilty upon arraignment, waive trial, a sentence will be handed down and you will go to jail."

"Gee—don't I get to collect two hundred dollars?" I asked sarcastically.

I was feeling very much like this was a sick game orchestrated by a monopoly of power-crazed men who were trying to control everything—including me. It dawned on me if that was true then there wasn't much difference between the men in prison and the people right there surrounding me in that conference room.

Manoso ignored me as I expected he would, so I turned my accusing stare toward Kate or whoever the HELL _she_ was! She looked me in the eye and I'm sure like everything else she'd done regarding me up to that point she _pretended_ to look guilty. She was a lying bitch who'd stop at nothing to do her job. That's all I ever was to her—a friggin' job. I thought she was a friend.

"Yeah, Meghan," I spit her name out acerbically, "let's hear your little game plan."

"Morelli, this isn't a game!" Brooks admonished me.

"You could have fucking FOOLED ME!" I glowered at him.

"Joe—" Michaels was trying to rein me in. I wasn't feeling the need for a leash.

"Morelli, I'm not finished," Ranger said just as emotionally as always.

"_I _am!"

It was all I could do not to reach across the table and grab him by his poaching neck! I kept seeing the replay of New Year's Eve in my head— Manoso holding Stephanie in his arms—kissing her. It served to enrage me more. This bastard did _not_ have a place in her life or mine. I wanted him as fucking far away from us as was humanly possible.

"Detective Morelli, you _know_ what's at stake here. Please do us all the courtesy of hearing Mr. Manoso, out." FBI Suit Griffin's voice was hard as steel. "A _lot _of time and effort has been devoted to this operation."

"YOU don't NEED to tell me what's at stake, and as for the effort, NO one will be giving MORE effort to it than _me_. I pointed to my own chest. "Remember whose life is being put on the line here! If it wasn't for Stephanie and _her_ life, I'd be OUT of here!"

"I know this has been a shock to you, and you need some time to process—" Brooks was going to be next in line after I finished off Ranger.

"Stop the bullshit—ALL of you. I know you're handing me a pile of crap! Just tell me what the hell is going on. I'm not finding this amusing. You're all acting like a bunch of freaking robots and lying through your teeth. You think I don't know the score. Sugarcoat it for someone who doesn't know what he's heading for? I fucking _know_ this isn't going to be a trip to Disneyland!"

"Joe, we're getting to it. SIT down, shut YOUR trap and let us get on with this!" Brooks was pissed. Well he could freakin' stand in line because I was ready to punch someone.

"Fine—I'm listening."

I wanted to walk out again. Just get up and head outside to breathe in some friggin' fresh air and choose a new life—a life with Stephanie. We'd find a place somewhere. We'd live in peace without all the darkness that kept invading our existence. I wanted us to be able to enjoy one another and be free to be and do whatever we chose, with no interference from anyone or anything.

Instead I had to face this utterly absurd reality and put all my dreams on hold, possibly permanently. I'd listen. Then I'd fucking let them know what I thought of their ingenious plans!

"Just get on with it, Manoso…" I gave him a laser splitting look.

"Meghan, I'll let you explain." He gave me a warning look. I shot one right back at him.

Meghan's soft, deceptive voice filled the room, and I finally became privy to her true agenda. "I've arranged for you to be culpable in the embezzling of monetary evidence. It's money confiscated from drug deals that have gone bad to the tune of a little over two million dollars. The trail will lead to a multitude of evidential proof that you've been on the take for a little over a year."

It didn't warm my heart to hear Kate reminding me of my impending fall from grace. I bet she was taking some kind of perverse pleasure in all of this. She'd been acting like I was her best friend—all the while stabbing me in the back. Now it was as though she was Ranger's twin, her face barely registering emotion.

Manoso cleared his throat slightly and picked up a pencil, rolling it between his hands like he was plotting the downfall of a foreign power.

Kate continued to paint that hideous picture of my future. "You'll also be charged with divulging confidential information to criminal factions and participating in nefarious drug related crimes."

She almost looked like she was reciting from rote the whole sad scenario. I wondered if she'd practiced in front of a mirror, because it sounded so rehearsed and canned. Nothing like the woman I'd come to know.

She still had the floor and she was adding more blackened brush strokes to her canvas. "We want to make it desirable for the organized crime lords who are in prison to approach you." She paused, looked around the room and then back down at the paper in her hands. "We're counting on them to recruit and keep your criminal activity afloat while you're serving your time. You'll have valuable information to share with them. We'll be playing them like puppets to get them right where we need them to be."

She looked at me then, and I saw a bit of regret in her eyes. Well she wasn't the only one feeling regret. I wished I'd never laid eyes on her!

She changed her focus to Ranger, obviously throwing the ball back to his court.

In spite of my anger, the strategy of this plan grabbed my attention. As plans went, it wasn't the worst I'd ever heard. I focused on the plan and tried to keep my temper abated, as I listened to Ranger pick it up where Kate left off.

"We want you to act reluctant at first to see if you can get them to threaten your family and loved ones. That's the usual method they resort to in order to blackmail cooperation out of other prisoners and the staff members at the prison as well."

I took a moment to study Manoso. His hand went to the tie on his black on black suit, and I could tell it was choking him. I'd like to be that tie around his traitorous neck! Impatience bubbled inside of me again. And anger—a ton of anger. My professional side pushed it away, and I forced myself to pay attention. Ranger touched his throat again, and I wondered if he'd picked up on my daydream of choking the life out of him. I wanted to shout at him to just shut the hell up.

"We want to trap them in their own games and, at the same time, get the inside information necessary to get them re-arrested and put away for life. We have to find the means they're using to smuggle in their communications to the outside, and it has to be cut off. Once we end the source networking their criminal activities they'll have their hands tied. They'll go back to being another bunch of ordinary prisoners who will no longer have the power to threaten or control anyone."

I wondered if Stephanie had ever heard Ranger talk this much. Shit, she'd heard him say things I didn't want to think about. I doubted he'd ever waivered from three-word sentences much, however, because then he'd lose his mysterious persona. The ladies wouldn't go for that. Was all his mysterious silence just a big act? His eyes went to Megan and I could swear I saw them soften slightly.

"Meghan, I'll let you expand on some of the evidence we've arranged to have come to light." He gave her a nod and a hint of a smile. That bothered me a lot. Did they know one another before this?

Kate fiddled with her pen and gave Ranger a return look that reinforced my suspicion they were _not_ strangers, sending chills up my spine.

"We have a brand new half million dollar home purchased by you three months ago. We have a garage full of sports cars and motorcycles you could NEVER afford on a cop's meager salary all registered in your name. We want you to start spending time at the house. You and Bob should move in there beginning today. You'll need to be seen driving the cars around town. You'll be flashing inordinate amounts of cash in everyone's faces. Your attitude will be arrogant and challenging toward anyone who questions you."

"Should I start with you, Meghan, seeing as you've been doing nothing but lying to me from day one?" I asked her. My voice was hard as steel.

"Joe, cut the attitude and listen." Brooks again.

"Really? I was just told my role was to _have_ an attitude. I'm confused. Someone fucking want to tell me which you want—and when?" I took a look at the schemers one by one. I felt like five knives were sticking out of my back.

"MORELLI! This kind of insubordination will NOT be tolerated." Michaels face was red, and he puffed his chest like a peacock to show me he meant business.

"What're you going to do—fire me? Oh yeah, you can't, because then what poor sucker would do this job!"

"Morelli, we have a lot MORE to go over, and I don't have all night!" Manoso interjected.

Meghan gave me an expectant look before continuing with the description of my descent to hell she had mapped out for me.

"You'll need to start frequenting some seedy bars. We want people to start talking about your strange behavior of their own accord. Then when the time is right, little by little, the evidence will start coming to light, and you'll be questioned and arrested after indisputable verification of your crimes is found on the premises of your new home."

She shifted her gaze away from the cold hard mask I was giving her. Cool Kate, the woman I'd witnessed at the shooting range, was the one talking. I could see that this was the Kate or Meghan—or whoever the fuck she was—I'd had doubts about even in the midst of the strong feelings she'd stirred in me. How in the hell had I not seen this! Was my guard down so much that I left myself open to someone as treacherous her?

God! I needed to see Stephanie. I wanted to tell her everything and just get her back now! I'd given a fleeting thought to us running away. Why not? We'd be together. Alone. None of this shit would touch us. Kate just kept talking and talking I wanted her to stop!

"Your reputation will be slammed first by rumors, and then, as the evidence comes to light, it'll become known fact. This is all planned to take place like clockwork." She carried on as though I was just a cog in the wheel of the well-oiled machine she'd designed.

Wow, the woman that I'd thought was falling for _me_ was making sure _I _took a GOOD hard fall down a deep dark hole. Was that irony or what? I guess _we_ weren't going to live happily ever after all. Gee—what a shame. What in the hell had I ever seen in her? I thought she'd had sincere feelings for me. What a chump I'd been! I was even more pissed at myself for entertaining that idea she could have _ever _been more. I'd nearly lost Stephanie over it. Yes, I was definitely a fool.

My stomach was twisting in rebellion. The sandwich I'd grabbed was lying like a rock, and the acid from my anger was burning its way up my chest. I wonder if they'd take offense if I got up to go for the Maalox.

"The arrest will be made at Pino's," she announced as if it were another day at the park. "That should create quite a stir, since, for many, it's a favorite hangout, and it's always full of cops. It'll be humiliating for you, and cause you to go ballistic on the arresting officers, as you'll be handcuffed in front of your peers. It'll showcase how out of control you've become."

She looked to Ranger, indicating it was his turn to finish the sordid details of their co-conspiracy.

He continued on. Obviously his teensy brain was working overtime on this one. Public degradation at Pino's—nice touch! I took a deep mental breath. _Steady Joe—you can get through this without blowing a gasket. _I took an inner inventory and realized there was NO fucking way I wasn't going to explode. It was just a matter of when. Clenching my fist, I listened to more of the master plan.

"At the same time this set up goes into play there will be major arrests made of three of Rangeman's top men. They've all got prior convictions and have served time. It won't be suspicious for any of them to be returning to the system. They'll be sent to the same facility where you will be, Morelli. They're being placed there to help you get the evidence you're looking for and to form a posse that will ultimately serve as your protection." His eyes speared into me, almost challenging me to mouth off again.

I cleared my throat, not expecting this development.

_Shit_

_Don't fucking tell me this plan actually had some merit! _My fists opened, and I hung on to the sides of my chair_. Damn, it actually made sense._

"Go on," I motioned for Manoso to continue.

"My men will let the other prisoners know they have a vendetta against you from the get go. They'll be watching you and harassing and threatening you immediately, so no one else gets the chance to do it first. They may have to rough you up occasionally to make it seem real."

Manoso almost smiled. The only person I'd ever seen him give a full-out smile to was Stephanie. "Of course you'll survive a few broken ribs and some bruises." Was that disappointment in his voice?

I almost laughed out loud sardonically, because I could swear there was a bit of pleasure in Manoso's eyes when he was describing my future of brittle bones and black and blue marks. I could barely resist the urge to inflict a few bruises and broken bones on _him_ right about then. Guess he couldn't read my mind because he was still talking.

"They'll stand up against the other prisoners as though they have the right to stalk you exclusively. They'll keep any other factions back who may want to cause you real harm."

I took a deep breath. Okay, so it wasn't a bad plan. It would be good to know someone had my back even if they were three times bigger than me and had to hit me now and then. Nothing like taking one for the team!

"Morelli, we're taking the steps to protect your family too. We're all family here at the precinct, and we take care of our own," Michaels interjected. He eyed Ranger signaling him to continue.

"My other men will keep watch over your family. If threats are intercepted or perceived to be imminent we'll move in. I have safe-houses all over the country where they can go until this whole operation is completed."

"I see." I was torn. I should be grateful he was willing to protect my loved ones. _Shit!_ I didn't want to be indebted to Manoso of _all _people. I'd have to swallow my pride to accept his offer. _W__orse_ yet, I'd need his help with the person I loved the most.

_Fuck!_

"What about Stephanie."

I hated that I was going to be at his mercy regarding _her_ as well. I knew in my heart he was probably the ONLY one who could offer her what she might need in my absence. _God damn it! I detested that_!

Manoso had the grace to look uncomfortable. "I've got a pretty foolproof plan for that too."

I'll just bet he did!

"I'll bite," I said simply. He was probably going to offer to have her stay with him in his apartment and his bed. I could almost smell that disgusting shower gel again. Bubbling emotion combined with insane jealousy once again. My stomach lining was already eaten away by the numerous times I'd had to imagine what it was like at his place and what he and Stephanie had done there together.

"We know Stephanie is already a possible target for Blutto or someone else in the prison system. My men will be watching her along with the FBI. If and when it becomes necessary, she'll be transported to safety as well.

"She'll never go for that!" I shook my head knowing better.

"She _won't_ have a choice," Ranger assured me. "We're hoping to keep any more threats to her well-being at bay by another plan I have in the works."

_What the hell did he mean by that?_ I was excluded from every fucking plan they'd made. Why?

Manoso folded his hands tightly on the desk. He looked away from me for a moment almost as if to get his emotions under control. But seeing as he didn't ever show any, I'm not sure what was going on with him. He looked up his eyes darkened with intensity.

"You and Stephanie haven't been seeing one another recently and we were assuming that separation would continue. That would've been helpful in our quest to keep her safe from any potential threats being made against _you—_both inside and outside the prison walls. However, youjeopardized that by visiting her two nights ago and staying all night."

Manoso's fist formed over his folder belied his composed voice, a telltale giveaway of his true feelings.

Pounding _my_ fist on the table, I exploded with anger, "Fuck YOU, Manoso! You're still monitoring her? You have NO right? Do you have fucking surveillance cameras our bedroom too?"

"MORELLI!" Michaels warned angrily. He'd probably have my ass on a platter, but I didn't giving a flying fuck.

"What! You expect me to sit here and listen to this son of bitch tell me I shouldn't be near the woman I love? This is too much! You've all lost your minds. He's a goddamned lunatic!"

"Joe, you need to calm down. Ranger is only doing his job," Kate's words ignited my ire more.

"YOU can shut the fuck up! You're nothing but a conniving liar!"

Kate's body jerked at the force of my words. She sat back in her chair biting her lip, her face flushed.

"Joe, there's more to the agenda you need to hear!" Brooks informed me as though I was five or six years old. "And you will act professionally from here on out, or you'll revert back to _OFFICER_ Morelli in nothing flat!" he threatened me.

"Oh, I'll just bet there's more," I mumbled under my breath.

"There is," Ranger nodded, staying completely oblivious to the fact I wanted to take him outside and finish the job I'd started in Hawaii.

"So let's hear it!" I straightened my shoulders, pushed my back into the chair and folded my arms across my chest, glaring at Ranger.

"We know the first person the thugs will go after if you don't cooperate with them immediately will be the spouse. If there's no spouse, then the girlfriend is a prime target. Stephanie already has a possible threat against her. We need to take the focus off the relationship you two had—"

"HAVE! The relationship we HAVE!" I clarified on no uncertain terms., which of course he ignored.

"—and establish that without a doubt you are in a _new _relationship. This will send potentially threatening elements completely off the scent of Stephanie and on to the new person in your life."

My brow furrowed while I tried to wrap my mind around what Manoso was suggesting.

"What the _hell_ are you talking about _exactly_?" My patience was wearing thin to the point of cracking. I felt sweat forming on my back, and every instinct I had was on red alert.

"We think it would be in the best interest of Stephanie's continued well-being and safety if you were to indisputably and publicly deny any kind of relationship with her whatsoever."

My mouth dropped open. Suddenly things were becoming all too clear. "And _precisely_ how am I supposed to do that!"

Ranger seemed to be oblivious to the rage boiling inside of me. "I'm glad you asked."

"What is with you anyway, Manoso? Who are you Donald Trump? This isn't YOU—or is it? Do women know you can speak in full sentences?"

"Are you through?" Manoso, asked, his eyes boring into me. He wasn't about to lose his cool in front of my bosses or the FBI. Oh no, he knew better.

"Morelli, cut this behavior—NOW!" Brooks was livid. Well tough shit—he had NOTHING on me.

I blew out a bit of the frustration. I nodded in Manoso's direction but refused to make eye contact.

"We have brought Meghan, who you know as Kate, in for a dual purpose. Not only was she in place here working behind the scenes to set up this operation. She's also here to serve as a decoy once the news of your duplicity is spread throughout the prison. The danger to you will be extended to anyone you are close to, and Stephanie would be in even more jeopardy than she is already." Ranger looked to his partner in treachery Kate, whom merely nodded.

I don't think I'd ever heard Manoso speak this many words at one time. When I got through with him he'd be lucky if he could swallow Jello let alone utter the word Babe ever again!

Instead of going back to normal form and budgeting his words Ranger was speaking faster. His Adam's apple contracted. Was he nervous?

"Meghan has been highly trained in covert operations and self-defense. She is the ideal woman to use as a magnet to draw the criminal element in _her_ direction. In order to make that happen she needs to become your _wife_," Ranger spoke as if it was the MOST logical thing in the world and why hadn't I thought of it myself?

"THE HELL YOU SAY! Stop fucking around with me, Manoso. This ISN'T you! There's nothing coming out of you but hot air!

"I could care less what you think Morelli."

"Well good—because you've totally lost your mind! I couldn't have heard you correctly."

"You did." His voice was low and his eyes fixated on me.

"Huh-uh—there's no way I could have." I couldn't wrap my mind around his words. There was NO way in hell he'd have the kind of balls he'd need to have to even suggest that to me.

"It's no joke, Morelli. You heard right!" Ranger was at least back to the short clipped words.

"Say it again," I dared him.

"You and Meghan will be married as soon as possible."

Exploding out of my chair, I was across the table in a split second, and I had the collar of Ranger's shirt in both my hands. It took the three men in the room to pull me away from him, and still I was ready to kick some ass. I struggled ferociously to loosen the grasp of Michaels, Brooks and Griffin.

"I want to talk to you in private, Manoso—NOW!" I shouted.

"Get a hold of yourself NOW Morelli." I didn't even know who was yelling at me anymore.

"You and me—NOW, Manoso," I growled.

"It's fine. Let him go," Manoso ordered my superiors, which incited me even more because they were MY bosses. He was NO ONE, and they were taking _his _orders!

"Uh…you can use my office at the end of the hall," Michaels offered as he let go of my arm.

Ranger stood, and as I spun around to leave, my leg caught the chair and hit the floor hard, making a loud crashing noise that was very similar to the one going off in my head.

We got to the room, and I slammed the door shut and locked it. I was in full rage mode. "What in the fucking hell are you trying to do to me?"

I didn't even wait for his forked tongue answer. Instead I did what I'd been dying to do ever since I first saw his smug face looking up at me in that room. I drew my arm back, made a fist and hit him square in the jaw as hard as I could, putting the force of years of anger into it. The element of surprise was on my side, and he lost his balance. His hand flew to his face. Steam was coming from my pores. God, I'd needed that moment. It had been brewing for a _long_ time.

I'd gotten no satisfaction in Hawaii, as we'd been on equal ground there. Stephanie hadn't chosen between us, and instead had run off. We'd both been left high and dry. Well not anymore. Stephanie _HAD_ chosen, and I wanted him to know it was _me_. It was high time for him to back the hell off!

Bracing myself for the punch coming my way, he didn't disappoint. It hurt like hell. But it felt good too. This was the Manoso I knew. I could deal with the street jargon and the below the belt fighting. That was who we'd always been—what we were both used to.

We stood there nursing our nearly broken jaws with our hands.

"You happy now, Morelli," he asked, his split lip bleeding.

"Getting there," I nodded.

"Good. Now can we get on with the business at hand?"

"My life and what I do with it is NONE of your business."

"I'm doing my job!" Manoso argued.

"Your job is NOT screwing with MY life!"

"I'm doing what needs to be done."

"The _hell _you are! You want me to marry _another_ woman. How fucking convenient for YOU Manoso, and funny how it's just after Stephanie and I got back together. _Oh you've got plans all right!"_

"Morelli, I don't give a _damn_ what you believe. That's not my concern. I know what has to happen here. It's my job and my company. I'm calling all the shots. Stephanie _will_ be protected."

"You call this protecting her? She _loves_ me, Manoso! How do you think she'll feel when she sees me marrying someone else and then being carted off to prison? How do you plan to _protect _her from the devastation of that?" My fists were dying to make contact with his face again.

"You can get the damned marriage annulled. Once Stephanie knows the truth she'll forgive you. Hell, you'll be her very own Superhero," he said it so sarcastically there was no mistaking his jealousy.

"There will be NO marriage to annul. I've never been married, and, by God, I never wanted to marry anyone but her! If you think I'm going to put a ring on another woman's finger after waiting my _whole _life for the ONLY woman I've ever wanted, you are sadly mistaken. You don't _KNOW_ me. I hold marriage as sacred."

"Hold it sacred later!" His voice was rough and uncompromising.

"BULLSHIT!"

I stood directly in front of him, very happy that I was a few inches taller than he was. I pointed at his face and let all the fucking anger loose on him. He had it coming.

"What in the hell do you take me for? You'll move in on Stephanie the MOMENT I enter that cell. You think I don't know what you've been up to the last four years! I know about all the sneaking around in the alleys and fucking her whenever and wherever you had a chance. Hell, you probably had your bags packed and would have been in Hawaii on your own if she hadn't called you herself. I fucking know all about how you groped at her and stole kisses, tempting her every chance you got. You've been taking advantage of her any time we had a problem. You played her like a fucking violin until she couldn't resist you! She's in love with _me, _you BASTARD. She _was_ all along, and you didn't give a fuck about it. You _still_ don't!"

"Are you through, Morelli," Manoso asked me as though he was indulging a two year old a tantrum.

I looked down for a moment at my shoes gathering my next thoughts.

"NO! I know it's MORE than that, I know you're in love with her. So excuse me if I don't buy this transparent attempt of yours to get me permanently out of your way! And don't you dare deny that's what you want no matter how fucking hard you try to hide it."

Ranger shifted and tried to set his painful jaw. "Do you really expect a lovesick confession from me?

"No, I don't, because you don't know the first thing, about love. If you _truly_ loved her, you'd have let her go a long time ago."

"Why would I do that?" Ranger asked me with a deadly calm demeanor.

"You know, you're a real piece of work!" I wanted to wipe the smirk off his fucking complacent face.

"This _is_ about work so that fits."

"No, it isn't, Manoso. This is about Stephanie, and the fact that you think you're better for her than I am. You act like you're superior. You can't even tell her the truth with your pathetic, frozen facial expressions and your lack of emotion. I can't even imagine what the hell she ever saw in you!"

"I accepted her for who she is!"

"I _knew_ you had feelings about me not being good enough for her. Not that it's any of YOUR business, but I've always LOVED her the way she is too!"

"No, you wanted her to change to fit your idea of who she should be."

"You're right. I wanted her to be _faithful_ to me!" I said grimly. "_That's_ _all_ I ever really wanted from her. I knew she wasn't, but not even that stopped me from loving her, you goddamned poacher!"

"I was able to poach because YOU dropped the ball."

"How? How did I do that? I was there for her in ways you couldn't begin to be. I was there every time she cried. I was there in that shower washing her off when she was covered in garbage, and I've been there through every moment of her infidelity!"

"She was sleeping with me because YOU never offered her what she needed to have from you. She's never made it a secret she wanted a commitment. I couldn't give it to her. I was honest about that. You, on the other hand, kept her dangling there for years waiting for it. Why wouldn't she keep looking elsewhere?"

"I'd have given her EVERYTHING if it weren't for you!" My eyes were burning in anger. "You poached because YOU couldn't control your feelings for her!"

"Whatever my feelings are for Stephanie, as I told you before they're NONE of your business."

"Excuse me? It's your _feelings_ for her that have _fucked _up my whole life. And now it's your _feelings_ for her that will probably end up getting _me _killed."

Ranger merely lifted a brow.

Enraged I continued, "You want me out of the way. This little assignment you got is like a gift from heaven. God, if I end up dead, you get the girl. Whom else will she turn to in her grief?"

"Do you really think I want to see Babe in that kind of pain?" Ranger asked me, shaking his head.

"Don't you _dare _call her that _anymore! S_he's NOT YOUR Babe!"

"You need to calm down, Morelli. We all have a job to do here. That is why you _will_ marry Kate, and you'll do it to make damned sure NO one hurts Stephanie. You'd never forgive yourself if anything happened to her."

"I will NEVER marry Kate!" I informed him. "Marriage is serious to me, Manoso. Why do you think I haven't done it? When I do, it will last forever. The ONLY woman I want to marry is Stephanie, and you can take that to the BATCAVE and smoke it!" I stared him down. There was NO way in hell he'd get his way about this.

"Hopefully she'll still be alive when you finally get around to asking her." He gave me a skeptical look. "I've always wondered how much you _actually_ loved her."

"Don't you _ever_ question my feelings for Stephanie! There is _nothing_ I wouldn't do to protect her. I'm doing this fucking job to protect her!"

"You're refusing to do the ONE thing that would _totally_ _protect _her! So I guess that love of yours only goes _skin _deep!"

I'd heard of the snide cracks he'd made about me and my libido and how Stephanie would do better with him in that department. The hell she would.

"Fuck YOU!" I spat.

"I guess I'll have to think of another way to protect her!" Ranger smirked. "I suppose _she_ could be the one who gets married," he added, almost as though he wanted me to see red. Well, it was working!

"_You_ will NEVER marry her, Manoso. As long as there is breath left in me, I will NEVER let that happen."

"I have no desire to be married. But if it takes that to ensure her safety, you won't be in a position to stop me."

I shook my head vehemently. "You fucking bastard."

"Marrying Kate is your best option," he offered coldly.

Ranger appeared to be in control, but I could see a muscle working in his neck. He was in as combative of a mood as I was. ONE more punch and we'd be all over one another fighting like crazy men. It would be bloody and violent. I forced myself to maintain control. It wasn't easy.

"My God! _You've been setting this up all along._ The same way you set up the phony records to get me incarcerated. Michaels has been throwing Kate at me since the day she got here." _Shit! Had I been royally played or what?_

"It wasn't a set up so much as a _strategy_ that needed to be in place. I am not working off my emotions, Morelli. I'm working off _instinct and my gut_. And both tell me Stephanie is in danger already. She'll be in even _MORE _danger as soon as you enter those prison walls."

"I WON'T MARRY ANYONE BUT STEPHANIE! And I'm sure as hell not going to marry K-Meghan."

I shook my head confused about who the hell she really was besides being a liar.

"Something is going to happen to Stephanie if YOU don't listen to me. And you will have _nothing _but regret."

"_I can't_."

There was NO way in hell I could do what he wanted. Even if I wasn't already terrified of losing her, I couldn't place a ring on anyone else's finger, pretending or not—ever! The only woman's hand I would hold in matrimony was Stephanie's.

"I won't hurt her like that. You'll have to think of another way," I told him, surprised at how calm I felt.

"There is NO other way, but you and I have other business first. We can get back to this later," Ranger said in an equally quiet voice. "What about my men? Are you on board with that part of the plan?"

Good question.

"Why in the hell would your men agree to do this for _me_? You and I both know anything could go wrong, and one or all three of them could end up dead right along with me."

"Tank, Cal and Hector volunteered. Actually there wasn't ONE of my men that _didn't_ volunteer. Tank knows how to keep a cool head, and he's good at organizing strategies and diversions. Hector's my security expert. You'll be able to get through any blocks or security systems set up that would normally be impossible to break. And Cal will do whatever you ask of him—no questions asked. He's very efficient as well."

"I'm not _stupid_. They're not doing this because they think I'm the _nicest _guy in the world."

"No, but they do love Ba—Stephanie. When I told them of the situation, they knew what it would do to her if anything happened to you. So it was without hesitation on their part. Protecting her has become as essential as breathing to all of us."

"You _all_ need to understand that when this is over and I'm back, we'll NO longer require your services. _I _will take care of Stephanie from then on. _Do you understand_?"

"If she needs me, all she has to do is call," Ranger insisted stubbornly.

"She won't call, because she won't need you. So you _will_ stay the HELL away from her. You got that!"

"We need to get back in there," Ranger avoided acknowledging my edict.

We had one more silent stare down. I wasn't about to back down and neither was he. I'd drawn the line in the sand, and he wasn't going to be crossing it whether he knew it or not.

I took a deep breath. It was time to face the other idiots still waiting in the conference room. ONE thing was for certain now. _I_ would be the one calling the shots from here on out. I had the power to make or break this operation, which was something they'd all failed to notice. Well, that was about to change.

Unlocking the door, we made our way back down the hall. There was still more to this. My gut was telling me I was missing something, and I needed to have ALL the facts in front of me. Once back in the conference room, I couldn't shake the warning lights going off in my head. I sat down and it felt wrong. Even after the big confrontation with Manoso it felt totally off to me.

I was sitting in a room of Benedict Arnolds. They'd kept the truth from me about Stephanie's life possibly being in danger. They'd kept the secret about the Rangeman covering my ass. They'd even manipulated my personal life, expecting me to fall for Kate and marry her. It was all based in deceit and lies. I couldn't stand all this fucking subterfuge!

Was I really ready to put my life in their hands? NO. The plan for the prison was good. The marriage plan was ridiculous!

I'd rather go sweep Stephanie off her feet, marry her and hide under alias' forever. I'd never consider marrying anyone else. The pain I'd be putting her through over my assumed treason toward OUR relationship would be unforgivable.

"I have some questions," I said, slipping on my cop's mask.

"Okay, Detective Morelli. What are your concerns?" Brooks offered oh so arrogantly.

"I want to know if Michaels actually knows Meghan's family at all?"

Michaels blushed. "Yes, that was all true. Meghan's dad is a very old friend."

I nodded. "And how long have you and Ranger been buddies _Kate_?" I deliberately put a sarcastic emphasis on her phony name.

She shot him a questioning look, and he nodded slightly. "Uh—well uh—Ranger and I have worked together on occasion in Boston when he was recruited by the FBI to help with other covert operations in the past."

"HOW LONG?"

"About six years," she admitted and avoided eye contact.

I nodded, my jaw immediately hardening.

_Fuck!_

"I'm DONE!" I stood up. "This isn't going to work for me any longer. Hey, it was a really good plan while it lasted. Next time you make one involving someone else's life let me give you one REALLY important piece of advice. You should fucking _tell _him how much you're screwing with him, so he can make an _informed _decision as to whether he trusts ANYONE to have his back. Thanks but NO thanks!"

Grabbing my phone and keys, I got up and strode out of there straight to the parking lot. _SCREW them all_. I was going home, packing a bag and getting Stephanie. I'd tell her everything and head the HELL out of that den of deception forever! I'd had enough!

I got home, and let Bob out the back door, trying to get my temper under control. I'd tried to call Steph the whole drive home, but she wouldn't pick up. I guess the best thing to do was get myself together and then head out to look for her. I had to find someone who would take Bob. I hated to leave him behind, but how do you hide a gangly orange oversized mutt?

I decided Mooch was the best person to take care of Bob. He'd done it for me before a few times. If he couldn't, then maybe Carl Costanza would. There wasn't much you could do to disguise a hamster either, but I knew Rex had to come with us. Stephanie would be leaving everything she knew behind, and I wouldn't ever take her treasured pet from her. Hell, I loved him too. How could a silly little rodent, who barely even offered us a daily twitch, worm his way into two grown adult hearts so easily?

Trying Steph's cell again, then her home phone, I left messages on both and begged her to call me back.

I started throwing things into a big duffle bag. We had to get the hell out of there. I had no idea where we'd go but as long as we were together it didn't matter. Gathering up all my bathroom shit, I threw it in too. I hauled the duffle down the stairs—and stopped dead in my tracks on the bottom step.

Kate was standing there waiting for me. How the hell did she get in? It didn't matter. She wasn't staying.

"Get the HELL out of MY house!" I barked.

"Joe you _have _to listen to me."

"How did you even get in?"

"FBI, remember?" She explained, shrugging her shoulders.

"Breaking and entering, remember?" I groused sarcastically.

"Joe, you have to let me talk, okay? I NEVER wanted it to be this way. I told Brooks, Michaels and Griffin it was a BIG mistake not to tell you what was going on. I never wanted to deceive you like that."

"Really MEGHAN!" I gritted her name through my teeth. "You lie about who you are, and you say you didn't want to deceive me? Excuse me, if I am not buying your snow job anymore."

"I didn't _lie _to you_, _Joe. True—my name is Meghan Katherine Sullivan, but everything else I told you about me were facts."

I put my hand up to stop her damned excuses.

"NO! You're nothing but a liar!"

"I'm NOT lying! My middle name is Katherine. My little sister couldn't pronounce Meghan, so she called me KK, and that stuck. My entire family calls me Kate. My maternal grandmother's maiden name is O'Grady. I use it as a cover so that it's _real_ to ME!"

"Well isn't it great you succeed at fooling even yourself!" I wasn't having any of her bullshit!

"Joe, you've _got_ to _hear _me out. I didn't want to do this to you! I was under orders just like you are with Stephanie. I had NO choice."

"And what about all the baloney about you being a widow of an old Navy buddy of mine! Where the HELL did that lie come from?"

"It came from me. If you look up who Katie O'Grady is on the Internet, you'll see us—my dead husband and me. He's a composite of different Internet pictures I took and made into an imaginary man who served with you in the Navy. You visited him a few years after you left the Navy, and the three of us had a wonderful time in California. We went boating together and spent time on the beach. You came to the funeral when he was killed in a car accident. You were by my side the entire day. The photos on the web site will show we have a history. That way _us_ becoming husband and wife would make perfect sense. You mended my broken heart."

"No. I didn't! There will be NO us! This is another fucking tangled twisted web of your making. It will never happen. You can take that phony shit off the computer, because _WE _won't be _needing_ it!"

"I told you I was doing my job. I was under orders!" Meghan pleaded with me to listen, but I didn't want to hear ANYMORE. I'd heard enough to last a hundred lifetimes!

"Were you under orders when you were laughing behind my back with your good ole buddy Ranger Manoso too?"

"What?"

"Oh don't play innocent! You know _exactly_ what I'm talking about!"

The idea, that she'd known who Stephanie had been unfaithful with the entire time combined with the fact I'd blabbed my heart out to her all about my pain, grated on me. I could almost hear the harsh cynical laughter of Ranger and Kate's high-pitched chuckle as they'd exchanged stories, making fun of that stupid idiot, Joe Morelli.

"I _have_ known Ranger. I told you; we worked together—"

She blushed slightly, and I realized the reason I'd read body language between them went further than any business dealings I'd imagined.

"Oh my God! You and Ranger had a fling—" This was getting better and better.

Kate's head dropped down, and I could swear I thought I saw tears in her eyes. I could tell I'd hit a nerve. GOOD I wanted to hit a LOT of them. And wasn't it just so _great _knowing Ranger and I had exactly the same taste in women?

"I was young. It—was—a long time ago," she admitted, looking straight into my eyes.

I could see there was residual pain in _her _eyes. Well no surprise there, I'd seen the same pain in Stephanie's many times.

"Let me guess. He loved you, but he couldn't commit to you. You were probably involved with someone else at the time so you were very torn between the two men."

Her eyes narrowed. "I was divorced from my husband so no one else was involved."

"Well _good_ for you. I wish I could say the same about Stephanie and me."

"What are you talking about Joe?" Kate asked, seemingly bewildered.

"Don't pretend you don't know! You and Manoso have probably been laughing behind my back this _whole _time."

"Why would I laugh with him about you?" she asked in continued wonder.

"Fuck you Meghan! You know damned well that Manoso is the other man in Stephanie's life! _Don't lie to me!"_

She took a step back. Her eyes widened in surprise. "I _didn't_ know! Joe, I had _no_ idea. I thought you hated him because he's a pretty grey area as far as following rules and laws. I figured the two of you must have had run-ins in the past."

"Nice try. You're a _great _actress," I raised my voice to imitate hers. _"I'm attracted to you Joe. I really like you, Joe. I want more than kisses from you, Joe. I want to be your friend, Joe!"_

"None of that was a lie." She moved closer to me, and I immediately moved up a step.

"I do _like_ you, and I _do _have _feelings_ for you, Joe."

"Even if I believed a word out of your mouth, Kate, you'd be _wasting _your time. Stephanie is the ONLY woman I will ever care about."

"You had some feelings for me too, and they were _real_." she insisted.

"How could anything be real when _you're_ not real? You played me. You said you were my _friend_. What a crock. With friends like you—" I swiped my hair. "I'm not doing this anymore. I'm taking Stephanie away, we're getting married, and we'll survive just fine as long as we have each other."

"Is that what you think? You think a hired killer is going to stop at Trenton? You think he won't travel across country? Hell, across the world if he has to! These monsters are egomaniacs. They want the payday sure, but more than that they want the GLORY of the kill. You _know_ that! You're just running on emotion right now. There isn't a place you and Stephanie will be able to hide they can't get to. They'll find you, and they'll kill her—probably you too." Meghan eyes flashed with the intensity of her warning.

"We don't even know for sure what those messages said. NO one can fucking decipher them remember? It could just be some perverts talking about that horrible over-endowed poster Vinnie had on the side of a bus!" I argued.

"And it _could _be that her life _is_ in grave danger. How can you afford to take that chance?" she asked me. "It's way too huge a risk."

Shit! I knew what she was saying could be true. Maybe I wanted the life with Stephanie so much that my instincts were off, and I needed to take a step back.

"Joe, you've got to do the job! You know what you have to do. See this through."

"I don't believe in any of you. How can I do a job when I don't trust one fucking person around me?"

"I know. We really screwed this up. You deserved better."

"You're damned right. I've given my whole life to serving honestly. And what you're expecting me to do goes against everything I've stood for all these years. Job or no job, you think that's easy to swallow?"

"NO. I know it isn't. We're all forgetting that you're a person with feelings."

"Yeah, well it's a bit too late for all your sympathetic bullshit now, Kate."

"Joe, you can't leave and take her with you."

"THE hell I can't! Watch me!"

"They'll track you down. This won't work. We have to find the source and get rid of it! There isn't any other way, and you're the one with the most to lose. I understand that."

"I don't want to lose." My head felt cloudy and my heart felt like a leaden weight was put in its place.

"I won't let you lose, Joe. I'll have your back. I know I have no reason to expect you to trust me, but you _can_. I won't bullshit you or lie to you anymore. I _hate_ what we did."

"I need some time. I need to figure out what _I_ want to do. You need to go, and _you_ need to keep Manoso out of my line of vision. Do you get that?"

"Yes."

"I want twenty-four/seven protection for Stephanie, and I want you to pull some strings that will allow me some leeway to tell her at least in part what is going on. In the meantime, you tell every one of those idiots that I'm going back to my regular job. I'll keep investigating murders while I decide what the _fuck_ I _am_ going to do.

"Okay."

This is _my _call, and you are all at _my_ mercy here. I don't intend to make another step that isn't totally my decision based on true and honest information. If I have any doubt that I'm being dealt with fairly and honestly, you can all go to hell."

She nodded silently.

"So Kate—Meghan I don't even fucking know what to call you. You tell them this is on _my_ terms from here on out—or my answer is no. I'll take my chances if they say anything but yes to this. I _will_ take Stephanie away from here. I _will_ find a place, and we _will_ be together. I don't _need_ any of this bullshit!"

"Okay, I'll pass on the information, and—it's Kate. It's what you've always called me, and I like hearing your—"

"Don't fuck with me. _If _I decide to do this, NO ONE better fuck with me anymore! Or I promise you it will be the _LAST _time anyone does!"

"I'm not screwing with you, Joe! I _didn't_ lie to you about my feelings."

"I don't fucking care! I will _never_ trust you again. I don't make the same mistakes twice anymore. You get that? It's time for you to go back to those imbeciles at the precinct, and tell them I mean business. You can call me later and tell me what they say. Otherwise Kate, I don't want to see or hear from you again. You and your feelings can rot in hell for all I care."

She bowed her head. "I'll call you later. And I'm so sorry for my part in all of this."

"Just go," I pointed to the door.

She turned around. "If you decide to do this job, I promise that I will have _her_ back. I won't let _anything happen to her!"_

"Uh huh." I didn't believe anyone anymore. The only person I believed in hadn't returned my calls.

"I'm so sorry, Joe. Please forgive me," Kate asked quietly before turning toward the door.

"You're _not_ forgiven and neither is Manoso. You two make a _great_ couple." I got in the last word as she walked out the door. Bob who'd been unusually still and quiet during our exchange howled sadly. I knew exactly how he felt.

Five minutes later I was sitting on the couch with a beer in my hand. My doorbell rang, and I was tempted to ignore it.

I got up off the couch and hoped to God it wasn't one of the assholes from work. Opening the door, I found the first reason I'd had all day to smile.

"Joe, I got your messages. What the hell's going on?" Stephanie asked me, her eyes filled with worry.

"Everything's okay now that you're here," I told her while pulling her inside. I looked down at her left hand. She was wearing the sapphire ring I'd place on her finger. Drawing her into my arms, I held on to her for dear life.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Not my characters. No profit.

Carol, Thanks from the bottom of my heart for putting up with me. You're helping me to grow and learn, and on top of that you are a wonderfully, honest, friend.

Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews your constructive opinions and feelings are appreciated.

**Steph's POV**

I was contentedly wrapped in the warmth of Joe's arms. Hugging me, as if he never wanted to let me go and kissing my hair, I felt his anxiety. Sensing something was terribly wrong, I hugged him back tightly, closing _my _eyes, savoring the touch and scent that was so dearly familiar to me. The truth was that ever since he'd left my apartment I'd been missing him like crazy.

He'd ask me to trust him, and I'd made up my mind that was exactly what I would do. The old Steph would have been stubborn and unyielding. My obstinate streak could take a hike this _one_ time. Joe had _never_ let me down. Even when he'd had no reason to trust me or forgive me, he done so. After being upset about him wanting to do the damned job, I asked myself what if things had been reversed and it was me who wanted to go on some crazy job somewhere. If he had so much as put a toe out to stop me, I would have blasted him to kingdom come yelling about how it was _my _job, and I had to do it and he had no right to stand in my way. Even after we'd argued about it multiple times, in the end he'd have told me it was my decision, always letting me be myself.

It was my turn to suck it up and be there for him. There was no way a job would come between us—ever.

Joe loosened the hug and held me away from his body. His troubled coffee brown gaze locked to mine.

"What's going on, Joe? Your messages seemed urgent. You sounded so upset."

"Nothing, I— your eyes are so damned beautiful." He looked sad—really sad.

Suddenly I noticed his swollen jaw and the black and blue marks forming near his temple. "My God—your face! What happened?"

"Hey don't worry. The other guy looks worse."

"Who's the other guy?"

"Steph, I'm fine. I'm a cop. These things happen."

Rummaging through the door on his freezer, I found a package of peas and threw it at him, and with his on-the-money reflexes he caught it. He applied the pack to his jaw. Shaking my head at him disapprovingly, I held back my reprimands realizing he'd already been through the ringer.

Guiltily, he gave me a bit of a smile back.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine. I had a shitty day."

"Me, too." I sighed.

"Are _you_ okay?" He asked me solicitously.

"I'm fine. I think my day was mostly crappy because I hadn't heard from you."

I wanted to call you, but I wasn't sure if you wanted to hear from me, Cupcake."

"I know. We left things kind of up in the air."

"You mean _I_ did," he said self-condemningly, sounding exhausted.

"Joe, if we're really in this together, then it's _we_ from now on."

"You don't know how much I like the sound of "we."

"Okay good. Then _we_ need to talk, and you've _got_ to tell me what is going on!"

I looked over his shoulder and spied his duffle bag on the steps. My spidey sense kicked in.

"Why is your duffle bag out? Are you going on that job?" I felt the knot in my stomach in spite of my resolve to be okay with it.

"No, I promise I'm not. In fact, I'm not sure if I'm even going to do that job."

"You're not?" Instant relief flooded me. "Why?"

"It's not important."

"Did something happen? Did it get more dangerous? Are you _sure _you're not doing it?" Curious me—watch out world.

"Steph let it go!"

He led me over to the couch and pulled me down onto his lap. Looking into his eyes, I sensed there was a struggle going on inside of him. The peas had fallen to the couch in favor of his embrace. Picking them up, I gingerly held them to the bruises on his face.

"I had a dream, about us." He smiled slightly but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You did."

"Yep. I dreamt that we decided to leave here together—just you, me and Rex."

"What about Bob?" I asked, a little upset he'd forgotten our mangy mutt.

"Oh yeah, of course Bob." The distance in his voice scared me.

"Go on, where did we go?"

"We found this place where there were lakes and streams and beautiful trees everywhere. We had a cottage by the lake."

"Sounds good so far. Was I naked?" I had to tease him. Whenever Morelli had relayed a dream he'd had of me, according to him, I was always naked. Even if he dreamt I was in line at the grocery store or checking out a book from the library, I was in my Birthday Suit. Knowing him and his penchant for embellishing my state of undress just to annoy me, I'd often swatted his arm or his chest. He'd then pull me over him, and before I knew it, all his dreams had come true.

He chuckled. "No, damn it—not in this one, but you should've been."

Eye roll. "So what _did _you have us doing at this cottage?"

"You were painting and I was fishing." It was his turn for an eye roll.

"Me painting?" I snorted loudly at that! My artistic talent, just like my cooking expertise, was _not _high on my accomplishments list, unless, of course, you counted stickmen and lopsided daisies as masterpieces.

"Me? Fishing?" He agreed. Go figure.

"Joe, do you _want_ to leave the Burg?" I'd never heard him talk like this before.

"Sometimes I think it would be good for us to get away from all of it. No more busybodies, no more small minded people, no more—

"_Ranger_."

"I'd be lying if I said no to that." He shook his head ruefully. "But I _know_ he's your friend."

"You're my friend too—the best one I've ever had—and so much more!" I kissed his ear, whispering to him all about the _much more_s.

"I'm so goddamned lucky to have you, Steph. I know that. Happiness is anywhere as long as I'm with you." He pushed my hair back behind my ear, kissing the nape of my neck.

"You're damned right you're lucky, Morelli!"

"And?"

"And I'd be happy being with you too."

"Anywhere?" He prodded.

"Of course. But what about our families?" I couldn't imagine not seeing them at least once a week.

"It was just a dream, Cupcake. I know it's _never_ going to happen." I felt his mood deflating.

"What aren't you telling me? Is there more to this dream?" I shifted in his lap so I could look into his melancholy eyes.

"I love you, Stephanie. That's all. If I could tell you everything I promise you— I would. Believe me when I tell you that I want to." He kissed my eyelids tenderly.

"I swear I'd never tell a soul." I put the bag of thawing peas down. My hand caressed his bruised cheek softly.

"I know you wouldn't. It's just really gotten complicated."

"I don't even know what "it" _is, _Joe?"

"It doesn't even matter. All that matters is that we're _together_. It's all I care about. When I hold you, I don't have to—I _don't_ _want_ to think about anything else.

"Okay, hold away then," I grinned, wishing he'd just smile.

Instincts told me that Joe was going through some kind of crisis. Rocking me in his arms like he would a baby, it felt like he was the one receiving the solace by the back and forth swaying motions. I wanted to cry. I wished he could share everything with me.

"Tell me what's eating away at you?" Tears were filling my eyes, as I silently begged him to tell me.

"It's really just office politics, you know. A bunch of bullshit! Don't worry about it."

As I sighed deeply, he felt my frustration against his chest.

"Steph, do you trust me?" His voice was just above a whisper.

"Hell yes—of course I do—always."

"Thank you. I needed to know that. Keeping things from you is not my choice. I trust you too—completely."

"What about your men at the precinct. Don't you trust them?"

"You're the _only_ one that matters—never doubt that okay? You have to know I love you—only you—forever. Don't you _ever_ forget that."

"I won't." Huge pangs of apprehension washed over me. I knew he needed me to let things be. Supporting him was my only option, despite knowing instinctively the secrets he held would curdle my blood. "I'll never doubt that you love me Joe."

"Good." He kissed my forehead.

I ran my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. "I'm here. If you change your mind and you want to tell me, I'm here."

"You're sticking with me like glue huh?

"I'm so stuck on you, Morelli, you'll need a crowbar to pry me away."

"Hide my tools then, because I don't want you away from me."

"Not all your _tools _I hope!" My eyebrows rose in mock horror. He only gave a half grin response, and worry continued to gnaw at me. "You don't seem like yourself."

"How's that?"

"_Morelli—_I've been here for OVER twenty minutes, and you're not even pawing at me! Am I not attractive?" Pretending to smell my armpits and doing a once over of my body, I gave him a what-the-hell-is-wrong with-you glare.

Even his laughter sounded strained. "I'm just _really_ tired. Do you mind if we—"

"I don't mind. It's just it's not like you." What the heck? Was my Italian Stallion turning into a carousal pony?

"I bet I could be MORE like me by morning." His hands glazed across the skin under my shirt, while his kisses were thoroughly promising.

"If you keep doing what you're doing, it won't wait till morning, buster!"

This time I got a full-blown chuckle. Thank God! I was so damned worried about him.

"Steph, I need you to tell you something."

"What? You know you can tell me anything."

"I know. It's just that I dropped the ball when we were supposed to be married awhile back." There was deep regret in his eyes.

"Why are you bringing this up now?" Funny that he was, because after he'd slid the Sapphire ring on my finger and he left me high and dry the other night, I'd had a flashback of that same moment years earlier. I'd felt so sad back then that we'd never taken the final steps to become forever committed to one another. We were committed in our hearts, and it'd never seemed to matter that much. But now _insanely_ enough it did—it absolutely did.

"I want you to understand I wished like hell—" he stumbled. "_You_ had to be sure. I was afraid that you weren't. I should've proposed for _real_—with a ring—and given you proof of my feelings. I never should've kept you dangling all these years. A lot of what happened or didn't happen for us—was _my_ fault."

"It's in the past, Joe. None of that would happen _now_."

"Are you saying that if I asked you—?"

His eyes were showing signs of life. I smiled and whispered in his ear. "I'm saying things would go a _lot_ differently than they did last time."

I kissed him silly then because I had a feeling he was going to ask me _soon_. Suddenly there was a promising sign I wouldn't have to wait until morning after all. The Joe Morelli I knew so well and loved to distraction was returning to me—the fatigue and weariness fading away.

**Joe's POV**

It was six in the morning.

I was sweating bullets, and I'd slept like crap. Once again I felt my burgeoning desire for Stephanie and had to force myself to let her sleep. I'd already kept her up half the night once I got my mo-jo back.

She was cute as hell in sleep—a smile playing on her lips and her hands all tucked in under her pillow. Her curls were splaying every which-way. Per usual, she had one foot outside the covers forever claiming she was too hot. I'd teased her about it on numerous occasions telling her one foot out wouldn't cool her entire body. Usually she'd responded by sticking out her tongue or going for my ticklish spots. I couldn't even believe it myself. Stephanie was the one who discovered them, not long after we became lovers, and she took full advantage of it to get me to agree to go get donuts early in the morning. Worse yet, she'd torture me until I'd yelp out "uncle" and surrender into taking Bob for his early morning walk—alone.

The peacefulness I felt this morning made it hard to understand why we'd ever been at odds. She's always brought a light into my life. I remember when we found one another again—when my whole stinking existence had been in jeopardy—she'd made me laugh. That had told me all I needed to know. She was impish, aggravating as hell and more stubborn than a tight pickle jar lid, but hell, I loved her. I'd always loved her.

I was fucking lucky to have had another night with her. Screw the bastards at work!

I knew the FBI and, no doubt, Rangeman, were watching us. I'm sure I'd pissed off everyone from Michaels to Manoso for daring to spend another night with her. But how could I be without the one person who made me feel alive? She didn't want to leave our families. She'd go for a while, but she'd never be able to stay away. Making her hide forever was out of the question.

She deserved more. Hell, with the way things were going, I didn't even know for sure the threat to her life was real. They'd lied about everything else. It was probably just another lie, engineered to get me to accept my fate and participation in the prison operation.

Second-guessing myself, I realized given her history, it could very wellbe true. She had enemies. If I couldn't run away with her, then I had _only_ one other option. She said she trusted me. I only hoped would still be able to somehow after her whole world was turned upside-down. Trying to imagine her face when she found out I'd been arrested at Pinos, made me hold my breath. God!

There had to be some other way.

Manoso was in love with Stephanie and involved in this up to his eyeballs. He'd said he would hate to see her in pain over my death. Was _that_ true? How in the hell could I know what was real and what wasn't anymore? Manoso was willing to send his men into prison to protect me, although it was for Stephanie more than me. Tank was his right hand man. Putting his own men at risk—especially Tank—wouldn't be easy. It would be like me sending in Eddie or Carl or anyone of _my_ men to save Manoso's life. _I_ sure as hell wouldn't do that lightly. Men in our line of work had to stick together, and I suspected that rang true of Rangeman too.

In the light of day, I could see more clearly. There'd been such a feeling of betrayal last night that I hadn't known whether I was coming or going. I didn't understand the need for all the secrecy and deception? They all had to know I'd hate the idea of marrying Megan/Kate or whoever the hell she was!

That still pissed me off. No matter what I couldn't wrap my mind around all her deceptions. How could I _not_ have seen it—an experienced cop like me, for God's sakes, _trained_ to pick up on those things? I was dealing with FBI, I reminded myself. They were the master's of disguise and covert operations, and she was obviously their star agent.

Steph stirred, interrupting my turbulent thoughts. She wriggled a little, stretching and yawning. She opened first one eye then the other and to my shock she wasn't crabby like usual. Smiling quizzically at me, she cupped my bearded chin. "What's up? You were thinking so loudly it woke me."

"I was thinking _loudly_?" She never ceased to amaze me. Her intuition worked overtime, even while she was asleep.

"Yep, you were. I could've sworn you were poking at me for something else it was so loud!"

"Don't you ever just say good morning?"

"Morning, Morelli." She gave me a sleepy grin and another big yawn.

"Morning, Cupcake—my little, ray of sunshine!"

"Right. _ME_ sunshine? I don't think so—at least _not_ before my coffee."

"Coming right up!" I started to move off the bed, but her hand shot out and grabbed onto my arm.

"You better be." she teased me with a wink.

"Is that an invitation?"

"It's a request for an encore performance, and you'd better be good Morelli!"

"I'd rather be bad," I retorted, my fingers reaching under her t-shirt.

"That's _good_!" Her laughter died away as her lips met mine.

Later we were standing in the kitchen with Steph wearing one of my button-down blue shirts, mostly unbuttoned thanks to me. It was another one of my favorite looks on her. I had on my jeans and no shirt. We were making toast, and she opened the cupboard.

She gave me a questioning look. "What's this?"

"Isn't it obvious—peanut butter."

"Three jars of peanut butter labeled 'Hers', 'His' and 'Ours'?"

"Yep. One is for you to contaminate at will. You _won't _catch me touching it!

She snorted.

One is for me—_no _contamination allowed."

"Uh huh. Morelli, I see you've thought of everything, but what about the 'ours'?"

"That's for places you'd _never_ think to use peanut butter."

She chuckled before catapulting into my arms, wrapping her bare legs around my hips and back. She gave me such an exuberant kiss you'd have thought she'd found gold.

"You got me peanut butter."

"Yeah."

She kissed me so voraciously I was panting for breath when we pulled apart.

"I got you olives too." I pointed to the cupboard above.

More kisses.

"There's marshmallow fluff in that one.

Deeper kisses

"I have an extra loaf of white bread in the freezer, and there's some of those Mac and cheese frozen dinner thingies you like in there—"

Harder, hotter and even more passionate kisses.

"Don't you want to fight _ever _again?" She kissed my lips one more time, followed by the tip of my nose.

I laughed. Knowing Steph and me, there'd always be some disagreements. "I wouldn't say that. You know how I love make up sex."

"You love _any _kind of sex, but makeup sex _is_ pretty damned good. In fact…" She disengaged her legs from around my body, jumped down and stood a few feet away.

She pointed at me accusingly and her expression turned instantly belligerent. "You really messed up again, Morelli! You needed to get green olives, but you only got black!"

"I think you're mistaken, Cupcake. You told me to get black. You never said a thing about green!

"I most certainly did _not_, and _where's_ the Birthday cake? You know I need it _every _day! And while we're on the subject, don't expect me to cook _anything—ever_!" Her eyes playfully flashed.

"_You can't cook_!" I put my hand to my chest as if in pain, barely hiding my amusement. "What kind of _Burg_ woman are _you_ anyway? I've been making love with you for four _long_ years! I was _counting_ on the fact you'd start cooking eventually! Do you mean to tell me I'm going to have to live with you for thirty or forty _more _years in order to find out if you're _ever_ going to learn to cook?"

"It could be fifty or sixty, and you may _never_ find out!" she warned me.

"I wanted a domestic slave!

"Yeah—well I wanted to be Zorro!"

"Where's my twenty-four seven attention? You're going to _have_ to take _all_ kinds of lessons from my mother and Grandma Bella."

"Oh God, _not _the eye!" she screamed in mock horror.

The _eye_ will be mild compared to what happens if you don't clean and cook _everything _just right—believe me you don't want to go there!" I was biting my lip trying not to laugh.

She tried hard not to break down, but the snorting laughter came out anyway. She spread the peanut butter on the toast and handed it over for me to take a bite. Ambrosia! She took a bite too, and we took a time out to share an intimate-loving-_our_-peanut-butter-moment.

Steph picked up right where we'd left off. "You wouldn't know what to do with me if I tended to you twenty-four seven." Her beaming grin totally blew me away.

"Ya wanna make a bet?"

"That's _all_ you _ever_ think about is sex!"

"You didn't complain last night or this morning!"

"Well it's just that a woman wants to know she's _more_."

"You're MORE already—Jeez!"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"More aggravating, more stubborn, more—"

"I'll tell you ONE thing you won't be getting any more of!"

"Oh yeah!"

"Yeah, Morelli. You're scum—nothing but scum!"

"Is there nothing I do that pleases you?" I threw my Italian arms into it.

"Well there might be a few things. I could maybe even forgive you if you did them."

She came up to me and brushed her tongue playfully against my lips.

Forty-five minutes later, with lopsided twin grins and happily glazed eyes, we'd firmly established make up sex was definitely going to stick around.

But reluctantly we knew we had to get back to our regular lives. As we were both going out the door, I knew I had to tell her the truth about the danger she was in. If anything happened to her on my watch, Ranger was right—I'd never forgive myself. She needed to be aware of the possible threats.

"Hey Cupcake, what's on your agenda today?"

"I've got a few skips—not much. Why?"

"Be careful okay? Watch your back, and don't go places alone."

"Joe, what's going on? Does this whole thing you're not telling me have anything to do with me?"

"I don't—can't," I fumbled. Lowering my voice to a whisper, I continued, "Okay, listen to me. You may have some threats against you. It's nothing we have any concrete evidence of. It could just be some pervert referring to the pictures of you on Vinnie's fucking bus."

"What threats?"

"Just some things found on phones that were confiscated. They weren't identifiable to anyone because they were prepaid. Your name was on them. We don't know why."

"And you're just now telling me this?" Her eyes flashing in accusation, I knew I could be headed toward some more of that make up sex. Yeah—like maybe in ten years when she forgave me.

"Yes, but—"

"Morelli, what in the hell were you thinking? Why didn't you say something?"

"Because you're being watched—just in case—so I figured you'd be safe. I promise you, Steph, if I had ANY proof I'd have told you, but everyone thought it was best to wait."

"_You're not everyone_."

"I know."

"I can't believe you kept this from me." Pacing away from me she suddenly spun in my direction again. "You don't think it's _nothing_, do you?"

"I can't be sure."

"I hate it when you do this! I hate it when Ranger does it too! Is he in on this? I could have sworn I saw a Rangeman vehicle in my rearview mirror last night?"

I looked down at my shoes, then up at her regretfully. "I'm sorry. I should have told you right away. Please, Steph, let them watch you. It gives me peace of mind until we know what the hell is going on."

"This _really_ sucks! I can take care of myself! When in the hell are you _all_ going to get that!"

"I know you can. I really do, but why take that chance if it means you're safe—"

"It doesn't make me like it any better. You didn't need to keep this from me. _Y__ou_ shouldn't have!"

"I get you're angry."

"_Really! H_ow observant of you!"

"I don't want to fight!" I really didn't, except maybe for more make-up sex.

"I don't either. It's just—Joe, if _we_ are in this together, you _need _to be honest too."

"I am being _more_ honest with you than my orders even allow." My eyes entreated her to pardon me.

"Okay," she relented reluctantly. "I promise to be careful."

"And you won't try to lose your tail?"

"I won't do it on purpose." Eye-roll.

"Okay, good, I've got to get to work, Cupcake."

"Joe, just one more thing."

"What?"

I know we've fought and yelled about my job, but in the end, you've _always _understood. If you do have to do _this _job, then I'm _behind _you, and I'll be _here_ when you get home."

My eyes moistened, because she had NO stinkin' idea how much I never wanted to leave her again. I kissed her. "I want you _here_, more than anything."

"You mean you want me _here_ tonight?"

"I want you everywhere, Cupcake," I told her sincerely, kissing the hollow of her neck.

"I want you too—more than you know." She kissed me forcefully fully and completely. I think she wanted to make sure I believed her. And, man, did I!

Entering the precinct, I felt strangely out of place again. How could one meeting take away all the familiarity of many years spent there? As I suspected things were pretty tense between Michaels and me. He grunted a greeting, and, sure enough, shortly after I was seated at my desk doing paperwork, Manoso called. I nearly ignored it, but my curiosity got the better of me.

"Manoso?"

"Morelli."

"What are you calling for?" _As if I didn't know_. "I told Meghan to keep you out of my life."

"She said out of your _vision. _That doesn't include the phone," he explained, pissing me off.

"What the _hell _do you want now?"

"I'm calling to _strongly_ urge you to stop seeing Stephanie. You two need to stay as _far_ apart from one another as possible.

"Uh huh."

"Morelli, this is serious."

"Sorry—you're not coming in clearly. You're sounding very _green_ to me."

"I'm _trying_ to protect her."

"You shouldn't be anywhere _near_ her."

"Suck it up, Morelli," he ordered me as if I was one of his goons.

"I'm _telling _her tonight." Screw this shit I was going to tell her the truth. Steph had a right to know _everything, _and she would before the night was over.

"I _wouldn't_ do that."

"Why not? You never minded her knowing she was in danger before. Hell _you_ put her in plenty of it yourself."

"She was never in real danger. I had eyes on her all the time."

"Yeah—I'll just bet they were mostly yours."

"Can we get back to the subject?"

"Sure. I'm _going_ to tell her."

"She'll blow sky high if she knows what you're thinking of doing to protect her. She'll _never _let you put yourself at risk, Morelli, and you know she'll do something reckless to try to protect you!"

"I still think she has the right to know _everything_. I can convince her to stay out of it."

"No!" Manoso argued, "For now it's best for us to guard her without upsetting her."

"Rangeman has a man on her?"

"Of course, and the FBI is keeping in close contact with us."

"Good." I wasn't going to tell him I'd already warned her. It was none of his stinking business!

"So if you won't stop seeing her, at least be _more_ discreet."

"Can you _please butt_ the hell out of our lives?"

"When the job is over."

"NOW! I haven't even decided if there's going to be a job."

"There will be. You'll do it," Manoso said with such certainty I was annoyed.

"Don't _count_ on it."

"I know you, Morelli, and you won't turn your back on this mission."

"For Stephanie I'd do things you've _never_ imagined. You _don't _know me."

"I know enough. Meghan filled me in on why you were so angry. She told you the truth. I never said a word to her."

"Yeah, you and Meghan have quite the history."

"Exactly—it's history."

"History repeats itself." I taunted him, wanting to piss him off.

"Not this time."

"We'll see."

"Morelli?"

"What!" I was getting aggravated.

"Can't you at least go to a hotel or something? Don't be so obvious about it."

I snorted. And then I hung up.

At four o'clock I had to call Stephanie.

"Hey, Cupcake. It's going to be a late night. We may have to cancel."

I heard the long disappointed sigh. "I don't care how late you are."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure, Morelli. Get your ass home as soon as you can."

"You miss me."

"Don't flatter yourself!" Hearing her soft laughter, it was quickly followed by, "Yeah I miss you."

I was trying to get through an avalanche of paperwork. I'd been out on murder calls most of the afternoon, which was why I was sitting there late into the night instead of being where I wanted to be.

I had to force my mind to concentrate on the details of my latest murder investigation. The only thing that took my mind in a more happy direction was Stephanie. We'd had so much fun together. Last night I'd been so consumed in anger and frustration. I'd felt betrayed and all alone. The moment I opened my door and saw her standing there everything had felt better. Who knew I'd be smiling and laughing, making love and forgetting I had a care in the world?

I loved that woman with everything I had in me. If I didn't have this damn mission hanging over my head, I'd have asked her to marry me THEN. I was so ready for that. I wanted it more than I've ever wanted anything in my entire life. It was so close I could taste it.

I hadn't stopped for dinner, and it was nearly eleven when I heard what I recognized as the fast click-clack of patent leather, regulation-issued shoes hurrying down the deserted precinct hallway. Eddie stormed into my office. His face was white as chalk. I felt my stomach coil in dreaded anticipation.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, knowing somehow this was about Stephanie.

His eyes were moist, and I could see he was struggling with what to say to me. I noticed dried blood on his hands and on the front of his usually clean blue shirt. I could see it wasn't his blood. _Oh God! What had happened_?

"Just spit it out, man!" I ordered him, bracing my heart for the worst.

"It's Steph…"

I closed my eyes willing myself to remain calm.

"She was in a parking lot of a grocery store. Some guy in a black hooded sweatshirt attacked her. Some teenagers were joy riding in their car, and they saw it happen. We think he stun gunned her initially. She was pretty out of it. The kids said he was hitting her and slapping her and ripping at her clothing with a knife. The parking lot was pretty deserted but fairly well lit. Luckily one of the boys had a personal alarm on his keychain. They drove as close as they dared to her attacker, and, thank God, the kid was thinking clearly. He set the alarm off and that scared the perp away. The bad news is by the time we got there he was long gone."

"The blood on your hands and shirt?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Hers. She was stabbed a few times, and there was a lot of blood," Eddies voice was mournfully quiet.

"Shit!" I had to remind myself that I was a cop. I couldn't afford to give in to the panic gnawing at my throat. The trouble was I was deeply in love with the victim; so trying to stay calm and professional was next to impossible.

"God, please don't tell me was she—?" I couldn't push the words out of my mouth.

"They stopped him in time. He didn't rape her… but he… she's bad this time, Joe. She was taken into surgery a while ago. She was partially conscious when I was with her in the ambulance, and she was calling out for you. I _had_ to tell you."

"Of course you needed to tell me. Why in the fuck didn't you _call_ me?" I was pacing and shouting Italian style with my arms.

"The Commissioner called first—almost like he'd had a hotline to the incident. He ordered me not to tell you. He said you needed to stay focused on something vital that was coming up, and he couldn't afford to have you distracted."

"What the FUCK!"

I was enraged. How dare anyone tell me I couldn't be with Stephanie when she was hurt! The fact she was calling for me, and I wasn't there was inconceivable. Nothing was more important to me than being by her side. She needed me, and, by God, that was where I would be.

Gazarra's arms were the ones flying now, as he pleaded with me to do as he was asked. "You have to call the Commish. I told him I was going to tell you after she was admitted, and I threatened to quit if he tried to stop me. He made me promise that you would call him before going to see her."

"This is fucking ridiculous! I'm going _now_! Screw Brooks." I headed for the door and ran straight into the broad burly chest of Randy Brooks—part police commissioner/mostly pig.

"You might want to watch what you say, Morelli."

"What in the _hell_ do you think you're doing?"

"You know you _can't _go see her. You've been going against everything we told you yesterday. You two spent the _night_ together at _your_ house." Brooks was treading on thin ice.

"That is none of your business. How dare you decide to keep this from me? Who in the fuck do you think you are anyway! I'm going!"

Brooks pushed the palm of his hand forcefully against my chest. "Not if you want her to be safe, you're not."

"Safe? She was taken into surgery, for Christ's sake!"

Brook's two hands moved quickly to my shoulders firmly holding me still. He was a big, bulky guy—only slightly smaller than Tank. Making a hard fist, I was ready to punch his lights out.

"Sir, I think..." Eddie tried to help, but Brooks was a jackass through and through.

Brooks turned to Eddie. "You're to say nothing to your fellow officers of what was said here, and, in any future meetings, this stays between us. If I need you to help with this operation, it's TOP SECRET! You keep your mouth shut!"

"Yes sir!" Gazarra stood at attention. He slid a look my way, and I could see he was confused and very curious.

Brooks turned his attention back to me. His face was turning purple with the effort of making his point and holding me back. I was ready to deck his ass. My hands were itching to clutch his throat.

"Joe, you know what's coming up for you. It's better that you and Stephanie Plum are not together right now. We _told_ you she was in danger, and this just proves it! You know as well as I do that that the covert operation has got to be your first priority! And you know that anyone you associate with will be at risk—_including_ her."

"_Get away from me, Brooks. I'm warning you."_

"I spoke with the doctors. The knife missed her heart. She has a couple of fairly deep puncture wounds, multiple bruises and contusions, along with a slight concussion. But she'll be out in a couple of days or a week at the most."

What the hell? _It missed her heart_! Fuck.

"I don't give a shit about the damn prison operation! Do you think that anything matters to me more than her? I'm going! Get your filthy hands off me!" I was beside myself with anger. "Let me make this easy for you, Brooks. You try keeping me from Stephanie, and I'll quit! No prison operation and no more homicides—except yours if you don't let me the hell out of here!" I gave Brooks a rock hard shove. He came back at me fast, shoving me against the opposite wall.

A long arm came forward out of nowhere and pushed Brooks away from me forcefully. I turned to find Ranger giving Brooks a warning look that would have sent a fire-breathing dragon running with his tail between his legs. He had his hand on his gun ready and waiting.

"Okay! Okay!" Brooks put up his hands up in surrender. "Morelli, I'll set something up, but you can't go until later tonight. We're going to have to sneak you in, and it can't be for very long."

"_Back off, Brooks_!" Manoso voice was bitingly hard.

"I've got to get to her now!" I started to head out the door, but Manoso grabbed my arm.

"I'll get you there. I have it all set up. Her dad was looking all over for you earlier. The waiting room was packed, and he said the only person she wanted was— you." I could see it cost Manoso to tell me that.

"Let me go, Manoso."

"Morelli, she was attacked. Do you get what that means? There _is_ a threat on her. It's _real_."

"How the hell did it happen? You and the FBI were supposed to be watching her."

"She's good at losing tails. I taught her too well. We had the FBI take over at eight by previous arrangement. They lost her in traffic. They arrived almost immediately, once we gave them the tracking position. But it was a few minutes after her attack."

"She could be fucking DEAD now! And it would be _your_ fault. Can you live with that?

"You think I have regrets? What about yours! Do you want to see her, Morelli, or not?"

"You're fucking crazy, you know that? Of course I want to see her! Now get the hell out of my way!"

"I'm here to help you—you _idiot_. I'm taking you there. My men are waiting outside."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because it's what B…Stephanie wants. And you _already_ know what this means. You have to face the facts. You've got to be _discreet— _especially now. Her family is being sent home for the night, so you can have privacy."

"How did you—?"

"I have my ways."

I followed Manoso out to the waiting van. My heart was racing, and while I'd never wished I could fly before, tonight it would have been fucking nice to have the ability! I wanted to be with Steph—to hold her and tell her she was going to be fine. I would make sure of it—no matter what I had to do.

Looking out window, I was unable to focus on anything. The cold, hard rock in my stomach _was_ facing facts. I was going to prison. Someone had hurt my beautiful Stephanie, and I was going to find him and bring him down.

In the van, Manoso was getting off the phone. He pulled a plastic bag from his pocket. A half torn business card was inside. I could see the letters were smudged with blood.

"We found this on ground," he announced, and my heart lurched with guilt. If I'd just left the fucking paperwork behind and met her on schedule, I would've been with her. This wouldn't have happened at all.

Manoso let me examine the card while he filled me in. "I convinced the FBI to let me run with it. If you look closely, the letters we can make out are c-k. The first one isn't clear where it's torn. It could be anything! Right now I have my men looking for gangs that have formed in the prison. The upper right hand corner has a part of a symbol that resembles one Hector knows of. If we can make a match to the name, we may find there's a gang that's after her. Could be one of the imprisoned Slayers is in there and has stirred up their vendetta against her. We should know more soon."

"Okay—well at least we've got something." My mind was only on Steph. I wanted to focus on all the things Ranger was telling me, but I couldn't.

"You know what this means?" he asked.

"I _know._"

It meant my choices were gone. I knew exactly what my future held, and it wasn't with Stephanie.

He nodded, and I almost thought I saw a spark of sympathy in his eyes.

Ten minutes later we finally pulled into the underground parking lot at the hospital.

I was dressed in doctor's scrubs. I had the phony Doctor's ID tag attached to the white lab coat, and my face was partially hidden behind a surgical mask. They snuck me in through the underground parking garage, and then made me hide in a laundry hamper until they got me to the right floor.

All this subterfuge was making me crazy. The only thing I'd wanted to do since the moment Eddie rushed into my office was to race to her side. It seemed like eons since he'd told me. It was nearly one o'clock in the morning, and my heart was beating double time. I was so anxious to see her and yet afraid of what would happen when I set eyes on her bruised and battered body. The fury I'd always felt whenever someone tried to hurt her was back in spades. I didn't need anti acids I needed _revenge—_fast and furious. For the first time ever, I wished I were Ranger so I could go out and find the bastard that hurt her and make him pay with his life. The anger was intense and all consuming.

Seeing her there, resting so quietly, my heart stopped momentarily. Her eyes were shut, and there were purplish bruises all over her face. I could see the stitches across her forehead. Bile rose in my throat. I threw the lab coat on the chair and the facemask on top of it. Standing for a moment, I tried to control the anger and the waves of concern and sorrow threatening to overwhelm me. My body was overcome with chills.

Garish black and blue marks were imprinted on her skin and showed in the v-neck of her gown. Just below that I saw the gauze bandage more than likely covering the knife wound that had nearly penetrated her heart. Her right arm was similarly bandaged.

"_Oh my God_." I hadn't meant to say it out loud, but she looked so fragile—so defenseless. All I wanted to do was protect her, and I hadn't. I couldn't take this on for her. Watching her suffering like this hurt me so deeply I could hardly breathe, and I felt excruciatingly helpless.

"Hey, Cupcake." I whispered into her ear. Bending over her to kiss her softly, I tried to find an unmarked spot on her cheek. I stroked her hair gently, while my eyes filled with tears.

"Joe." I heard her weak cracked voice, and it broke my heart. Images of what she must have endured played in my mind over and over like pieces of the puzzle I'm so used to putting together. I could see she'd tried to fight the bastard off by the red abrasions on her wrists and the scratches on her arms.

"Yeah, Cupcake—it's me." I took her hand in mine and kissed the wrist marks first. I then kissed her fingers one by one. "I'm so sorry. I wanted to be here right away."

"I don't know what happened. I just know he came out of nowhere, and I remembered as soon as I saw him that you'd warned me to be careful. He tased me, but it wasn't—I was still conscious."

"I know, Steph. It's okay. You just need to be quiet now and get better."

"I wanted to surprise you with your favorite ice cream—cuz you got me peanut butter, and—I'm so sorry, Joe." Her voice was racked with tears.

"Sweetie, it's okay. Don't worry about the ice cream. The only thing I care about is you, Cupcake—only you."

"I'm sorry. I know how worried you get about me."

"It's a habit now. I'd do it even if nothing _ever_ happened to you."

She smiled a little, winching in pain. "You love me."

"Yeah, I love you." I kissed the place on her lips that looked the least swollen.

"I didn't even try to lose my tail. I swear I didn't,' Joe. It just happened."

"I know." I gently brushed the tangled curls from her face.

"He came out of nowhere… I felt it before I saw him. I was just coming out of the store with the ice cream and…"

Tears poured down her battered face, and all I wanted was to take her tears away forever.

It wasn't my fault _this time_. It really wasn't."

"It's okay, Cupcake—just relax and rest. I promise you everything is going to be okay."

"I should've fought harder. He took me by surprise! I should've been paying more attention. I took all the self defense classes, but—"

"_Don't_ do this to yourself, Stephanie. He's going to get caught, and he's going to pay!"

I could hardly keep my hands off her I wanted to hold her so badly it was all I could do not to thrown myself into her arms. I knew better. When a victim has been attacked, you don't make any sudden moves to frighten them back into the horror they've experienced.

"Joe, did you read the report?"

"The report?"

"On me?"

"Yes, of course I did." I'd seen it on the way over in the van. Reading it and actually seeing her in this kind of agony were two different things.

"I was so out of it when they brought me in… and then there were so many people in and out of here…"

"I can imagine!" I know how deeply loved Stephanie was by the eclectic group of friends and family she had.

"Please, Joe—I need to know…"

"Know what, Cupcake? I'll tell you anything you want to know."

"Was I… did he… I don't remember anything…" She bit her lip to try to stop the tears. I noticed how much she was shaking.

"NO! Baby no. He was scared away by a couple of quick thinking teenagers. They were joyriding and stopped to get something to eat, and one of them had a personal alarm he let off. It scared the asshole into running off, but don't you worry, Cupcake, he'll get exactly what he has coming to him!"

"Thank God! I knew you'd tell me. I didn't want to ask _anyone_ else."

"Of course you can ask me anything—always," I reassured her, squeezing her hand.

"I know some boys who're going to get some tickets to the next Ranger's game." I told her kissing her hand again.

"Joe, would you please hold me?" I saw the plea in her eyes. "I just need to feel your arms around me. I feel safe with you. I always have."

"That's all I want to do." Sitting on the edge of the bed, I had to lie next to her. Gingerly, avoiding all the bandages, I placed my arms around her. She tried to adjust her broken, wounded body to meet mine. Feeling her wracking sobs against my chest, I absorbed the warmth of her body and felt her heart beating sweetly and steadily as I silently thanked God for sparing her life over and over again.

"Don't leave me tonight, please," she begged me tearfully.

"I'm not going anywhere." No one would take this time away from us. NO one!

I whispered to her softly, telling her she'd be fine, that she was the bravest, most beautiful woman I'd ever known and that I was proud of her for being such a trouper.

She cried more and smiled feebly through the tears. And after a while, it became so quiet in the late hours, we just held each other without speaking.

"Love you, Joe," she whispered softly.

"I've been falling in love with you my entire life, Cupcake, and I don't ever want to stop."

"We're going to make it, Joe. I know it now, without a doubt."

"We belong together. There is no doubt in my mind either."

She pushed an errant curl back from my forehead. "You were such a jerk when we were young."

"You were such a stubbornly gorgeous handful, and you still are," I countered.

"Do you think our kids will take after us?" she asked a little shyly.

"I hope so, Cupcake." Smiling happily, she slowly drifted off to sleep.

Kissing her hand, I knew what I wanted to do more than anything. If it weren't for the damned fact I had to leave her, I'd propose to her on the spot. But I couldn't be that cruel giving her that much hope then tossing her into hell.

"_Our kids."_

She'd never said that before—ever. Fucking hell, why was our timing always so shitty?

I was going to a meeting early in the morning that _I'd_ called for on my way to the hospital. Ranger and I'd had a conversation, and I'd agreed to do the mission. I'd also agreed to all the plans that had been set for me _including_ the marriage to Meghan. I _had_ to do whatever it took to protect Stephanie—_even that._

Treasuring these meager few hours we had together, knowing that it could be our last, I looked at her bruises and tears rushed to my eyes. I could never let something like this happen again! Making my mind up about how this was going to work, I'd realized there was no way in hell I was doing any of this without Stephanie knowing _everything! It had to come from me._

Having had too many lies and too many unspoken things between us before had almost led to our ruin. Letting her find out any other way was unthinkable. She'd yell, and be enraged, and more than likely throw things at me. I'd beg her not to let on to anyone else. It would have to stay between us. It was essential that her reactions to both my incarceration and my marriage be believable and natural. Her _knowing_ everything, and being _included,_ might mean she'd find a way to forgive me.

At least I prayed she would.

She stirred a little and opened her eyes groaning in pain.

"Are you okay? You need the nurse or more pain medication?"

"No, just you. I only need you."

"I'm here. But Steph, I can't stay till it's light out. I've got to be at a meeting with Michaels early in the morning."

"I'm just so grateful you're here now."

"I can't _stand_ seeing you in pain."

"I feel the same way about you. "Joe, why are you dressed like a doctor?" she asked groggily.

"Secrets of the trade, Cupcake. I figured with the get up the night nurses wouldn't want to throw themselves at me as much."

"Ah—sounds like an overblown ego to me. Secrets of the trade—my eye—what you won't do for attention," she teased me, making me smile a full blown out grin. Only Stephanie could find a way to make me smile when I felt so disheartened inside.

"Can you stay a little longer and hold me until I fall asleep again?"

"Yes, Cupcake, I'd love that." I didn't know how in the hell I was going to leave her.

"Kiss me goodbye now okay. I don't want to miss it when I'm asleep."

_Shit!_

Throat closing up with unshed tears and the strain of leaving her, I kissed her tenderly, inwardly praying to God that we would be together again.

Somehow.

Someday.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

Not my characters. No profit.

Carol, Thanks for all the hard work and for letting me run everything by you! You help me more than you know! You are one in a million!

Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. As always your thoughts and feelings about this story mean a lot to me!

**Steph's POV**

Dawn was barely peaking its way into my hospital room window. I shuffled my feet against the rigid, tucked-in bedding, trying to squirm one foot out of the damned regulation hospital bed. Agonizing pain shot through my wounded body, and I let out a low, howling moan.

Disappointment filled me as I examined the room, looking for some sign of Joe and knowing he would help me. I remember he'd been with me last night as I'd fallen asleep. I'd needed him so damned much, and he'd come just the way he'd promised me he would. From the moment I awakened to find it was Eddie with me in the ambulance, I'd wished it were Joe instead. Even after being brought to the hospital, feeling totally groggy, and disoriented, among the sea of both familiar and strange faces, _his_ was the only one I'd _wanted _to see. Finally when he'd arrived, it hadn't mattered how long I'd waited. The _moment _I'd felt his arms wrapped around me, my fears had evaporated. His healing touch and solicitous, brown eyes were so filled with love; I'd hardly felt the pain.

Needing a distraction from my discomfort, I treasured the thoughts of Joe that were so unforgettably etched in my mind. Thinking fondly back, I recalled one of the many times he'd come to my rescue.

I'd been taking a break from skip tracing and went through a zillion jobs in less than a week. The last disaster was at Cluck in a Bucket Chicken. After a convoluted series of events that only _I _could become involved in, an enormous fire broke out, and the place burned down to the ground. It _wasn't_ my fault! Disaster prone as always, I came out of it looking and smelling like a greasy, charcoaled chicken leg; complete with electrical tape stuck to my head and fryer spattered oil burns all over my skin.

Morelli had taken me home with him. He'd removed my singed clothing, gently and painstakingly performed the excruciating task of detaching the tape from my head— apologizing and wincing himself when he'd felt me cringing as he tore at my scalp. Staying with me in the shower, he sweetly helped me to wash and rewash my impossibly greasy hair. Even afterward, still stinking of rancid chicken grease, he'd applied burn ointment to the balding spots the tape had left behind. When I'd started to cry, he'd embraced me and assured me I didn't look bad to him, that I'd never looked anything but beautiful in his eyes.

Cuddling with me closely in bed as I cried buckets, he'd never said one harsh word or complained about the fact I'd reeked of the greasy, fowl stench all night long.

Whispering to me later, Joe admitted to me that the coin toss with Ranger, deciding which of them would care for me, had been a fake. He'd confided he'd had no intention of letting _anyone _else tend to my needs but him. I _was and always would be_, as he put it, a Morelli exclusive! I was so damned lucky. Tears filled my eyes, as I recalled how stupidly I'd taken him for granted.

Feeling dejected, and ugly as the proverbial duckling, the next morning, I'd gone downstairs. Instantly, there was a reason to smile. Joe had always known me so well. There on the table were my favorite donuts and coffee. Understanding what a rough night I'd had, he'd made sure my sugar fix was there to take the blues away. If that wasn't enough, he took a rare day off to drive me to the mall. He sat there patiently waiting as Mr. Alexander worked his magic treating and cut my damaged hair into what Morelli had deemed later as a wickedly sexy style.

Women had ogled him giving him seductive smiles trying to capture his attention. Myman kept his face buried in his magazine paying no attention. I'd rationalized it had nothing to do with his devotion to me, but now I knew it was _all_ about that! Was I blessed with a man in a million or what?

In the light of day without him, I didn't feel safe or healed. I felt all the pain and loneliness. Knowing he stayed as long as he could, I prized those moments alone with him. He hadn't made any promises to come back, and for some reason I knew he couldn't. There was something about his eyes that had told me he wanted to say more to me, but he'd held it back. I knew _him _so well too.

As hard as I tried to keep the demons at bay by concentrating on happier times, flashbacks of my attack began to infiltrate my brain. I wanted to remember, in order to nail that bastard who'd stabbed me, but my body shook in terror as I relived every horrifying, moment.

I'd forgotten all about Joe's warning that morning and had acted, so carelessly. I hadn't paid attention because I was thoroughly entranced by the idea of surprising him with something he'd loved much as he'd surprised me with the peanut butter _I'd _loved. He'd always been crazy about chocolate ice cream, and _I'd _taught him the pleasure of adding hot fudge and whipped cream. Most of it never made its way into a bowl, but had been used "creatively" instead. I'd spent most of the time thinking about our imminent evening throughout most of an uneventful skip chasing day. The only thing on my mind was spending more time in Joe's arms.

Leaving the store, I'd been smiling in anticipation of his late night arrival when out of nowhere the masked, hooded man had jumped me. I'd felt the sting of the taser—my body jerking and then falling. The grocery bag had flown from my arms. Holding me down to the ground, he'd clasped my wrists with his leather-gloved hands. I'd been conscious at first and screamed out while trying violently to fight him off. The wrenching tear of my shirt had sent waves of desperation and panic through my senses. My heaving chest exposed, his hands had groped at me through my lacy bra.

Wriggling like mad under his hard, unyielding body, I'd tried to get out of his grasp. Kicking up my knee into his groin had been my only hope as he'd worked the zipper down on my jeans. I'd felt his malicious reaction to my efforts to escape when he'd repeatedly hit my face. Tears had blinded my eyes. I'd heard him threatening me and had felt the stabbing jab of the knife as it'd entered my skin. Pain had consumed me, and just before I'd passed out, I'd heard his menacing growl.

What were the words? "You will pay, you'll regret the day, you crossed me—" Sitting there in my hospital room, I knew there was more, but my memory was still cloudy.

**Joe's POV**

Everything at the second meeting I'd had with the members of the Joe's-going-to-jail-conspiracy- team went very differently. I'd helmed the meeting, taking total control and no one had even dared to cross me. Brooks had actually looked nervous. I guess they all had figured out that without me they'd have to find a new goon. My motivation for that meeting was something they'd all known better than to challenge—the safety and well being of the woman that meant more to me than anything else in the world.

Stephanie.

I wanted to punch my fist through a wall. It had angered me to see her so vulnerable and shaken. The urge to make someone pay for that was igniting my resolve to see it happen—soon!

Forcing myself to let go of her last night had taken everything in me. And tonight I was going to have to face it all over again. I needed to go back and tell her the awful truth. Dreading it more than anything, I didn't want to hurt her when she was already dealing with enough. After weighing my options, I'd decided not to wait and do it while she was still in the hospital. I figured maybe due to the quiet-hospital-zone rules throwing things wouldn't be as easy for her. At least she definitely wouldn't be able to kick me in the groin—all plusses when dealing with a pissed off Steph!

It was a little strange looking at Kate now when in a few short days she'd become my wife. I needed to head home and pack up my things. Bob and I were moving into the big white, modern house on easy street. I didn't even want to think about the fact I'd be sharing my living quarters with Kate once again. Me living the high life was hard enough to even visualize, let alone actually experiencing it. I'd been given those inordinate amounts of cash I was supposed to flash all over town too. I was told Kate had picked out a brand new wardrobe for her Ken-doll-husband-to-be. _Just what I wanted!_ If it wasn't all so bizarre, I might have laughed, but inside I felt like doing just the opposite.

Shit!

I tried to picture telling Stephanie I was getting married for the first time in my life, and—"_surprise_"—the bride wasn't going to be to _her_! What a convoluted mess! Wishing I could strangle every figgen' member of those two gangs and anyone else who could be sending my life straight to hell, did nothing to calm my nerves. I had to wonder if it even was a gang. There were two possibilities. Manoso's men had found one gang that'd formed in prison recently called the Blacksnakes. The other, which had been around much longer, was the Whack Jacks.

Nice.

What a way to spend your honeymoon! Could it be any worse? With my life lately—probably.

The other thing Manoso had brought to light was that neither symbol used by those two gangs matched the half symbol on the torn bloody card found at the scene of Stephanie's attack. That wouldn't in itself rule the gangs out, since an individual member could have had his own personal symbol on a card. While it didn't eliminate them, It certainly wasn't the conclusive evidence needed to prosecute them either. Put simply, we could have hit a dead end, and, if so, it meant anyone in that prison could be a suspect until proven otherwise.

Shit.

Why couldn't anything just be easy?

Ever!

I'd waited until the majority of visitors had left the hospital and mostly only staff parking was occupied.

I made my way to her room, preferring my own methods to the over the top, double-o-seven tricks of Manoso and his men. I didn't want to scare Steph, so before I entered her room, I threw the hood of my sweatshirt off my head. Funny, I felt now like I had when I was her first FTA on the run. She'd complimented me on how much I'd looked like the Unabomber a few times over the years whenever I dared to put the hood up on my sweatshirt.

Thoughts of her irascible personality made me smile despite the confrontation I knew lied ahead. Maybe we'd come full circle. God I hoped not, because that was not how I wanted _our _circle to end.

She was lying in bed, but propped up slightly from her position the previous evening. I felt relieved, knowing it meant she was getting better. There weren't a bunch of tubes connected to her wrist anymore, and she didn't look as pale as she had yesterday.

Easing in, I preferred not to wake her. I just wanted a few minutes to look at her before all hell broke loose. I wished I could get down on one knee and propose. Instead I'd probably need to hit the floor on both knees in order to beg her forgiveness for what I was about to do.

I bit my lip, because my damned eyes were filling again! Shit, I'd never cried like this so easily before. I suspected it was because I was exhausted. Yep that had to be it—not because it felt like my heart was being ripped into shreds.

Steph stirred, slowly opening her eyes. The instantaneous smile I received made my throat hitch.

"Hey."

"Hi ya, Cupcake. How are you feeling?"

"Better now that you're here—like it was just a big SUV that hit me instead of a tank."

"Well, that's an improvement!"

"Why are you still five feet away from me?"

"Good question." I made my way to my rightful place by her side, getting up on the bed as I had the night before. Instead of the flood of tears I'd half expected I was met with the most dazzling smile I'd ever seen. I felt the love and gratitude shining for me in her eyes.

"You are _everything_ to me, Joe Morelli. Don't _ever_ doubt it!" Her tearful, but happy voice caused me to forget everything I'd come to tell her. I hugged her to me more tightly.

"Ouch!"

"Oh my God, Cupcake—I'm so sorry! You just caught me by surprise."

"You're surprised I told you the God's honest truth? I guess I can't blame you. I withheld telling how much you mean to me from you long enough!"

"It's all in the past," I soothed. "What matters is we both know the truth. And on that note, I've come here to tell you the _truth _about what was upsetting me the other night."

"You did!" Her smile was so happily hopeful I felt like the biggest jerk on earth.

"Yeah. Now I need you to _promise_ me you'll let me talk until I'm completely done, okay?"

"Okay," she said guardedly.

"Okay." I swallowed once to clear the tangled emotions in my head and throat. "First off—" I lost all train of thought when I gazed into her eyes. "_You're so beautiful_."

"What? God! Please! I'm anything but! I'm full of purplish, black and blue marks; my hair's a matted mess, and I _know_ how attractive this hospital gown is!"

"Cupcake, I've never seen anything but beauty when I look at you. Don't you know that? Even if you're covered in garbage, blue paint or dog shit, I might smell it, but I _never_ see it. All I ever see is _you_."

"Joe." She smiled tearfully.

"It's the truth; I promise."

"I believe you. But I don't _believe _this is the _truth _you came here to tell me."

"Ever the wise ass, aren't you."

"You bet your to-die-for-ass, Morelli!"

_Funny to hear her say to-die-for_. God! I hoped it wouldn't come to that.

" I can see it again in your eyes. You look upset and sad. I'm ready to listen to whatever you want to say. I promise I won't interrupt."

"Good. You know what? I think I need to pace a little." I got up from the bed and started the pacing thing for a few moments, and then pulled the chair close to the side of the bed. Sitting down, I pulled her Sapphire embellished hand into mine. She was wearing the ring again, which meant she must have asked the nurses to get it for her, because it'd been nowhere in sight the night before. That only reconfirmed for me her attack hadn't been a robbery or mugging gone wrong. If only it were that simple. I wished the ring on her finger was a diamond engagement ring accompanied by a wedding band.

"The job I was asked to go on entails something _different_ than I've ever done before. It's a little more dangerous than usual."

She opened her mouth to protest, but my entreating look stopped her words.

"Now I know you're worried and rightfully so, but I _have_ decided that doing this job is not optional _any_ longer. I can't sit back and let what's going on continue. I won't ever see you in the kind of pain or anguish you were in last night. NOT ever again!"

"I was _right_. This _is_ about me." Her eyes registered alarm.

"Yes and no. There is a ton of corruption going on, and it has to be stopped. I have the power to _do_ that, and, at the same time, I may very well be able to protect you from any further harm. For that, I'm fucking grateful."

"NO!" She tried to shoot up in the bed to protest, and I rose to my feet, gently pushing her back.

"You promised to hear me out, remember?" I kissed her forehead.

She nodded, but tears were already filling her eyes.

"Where did they find those phones with my name on them?" My naturally talented detective was hard at work already.

I looked down at my feet and then straight into her worried eyes. "Prison."

"OH my God! NO! Joe, what in the hell would that do for us? You _can't_ go _there_."

"I _am_ going there. You have _got_ to hear me out! You said you trusted me. Was that true?"

"Of course, you numbskull. You know, I do!"

"Then _shut up_ and listen to me!" I didn't want to be rough on her, but I had to get this over with. It was killing me already, and I hadn't even told her the worst part yet.

"I _don't_ want to hear it," she raised her hands to cover both ears. "You're _not _doing this!

How in the hell would you _even_ do it anyway? You're not a _criminal! _Are you going to go in as a prison employee?"

"Not exactly."

"Then what _exactly?_"

"Well, uh—pretty soon you'll be hearing some things about me that are uh— kind of not so good."

"What kind of things?"

"Things a crooked cop might be doing like embezzling and maybe divulging some pretty confidential information to uh—nefarious persons of interest."

"Are you telling me you're going to be accused of being on the _take_?"

"Yeah." I grimaced.

"The hell you are! Joseph Morelli, what in the heck are you thinking? NO! Absolutely NOT! I won't hear of you ruining your reputation, a reputation you've spent over fifteen years working your ass off to establish! NO! N—O. NO!"

"Stephanie, you _promised_ to just listen."

She shook her head and gave me one of her oh-so-pissed-off, dirty looks.

"What's happening in the prison system right now is damned sick and scary. I don't know if you know, but many of the criminals in there are conducting their crimes from inside the prison walls. New gangs are started up in the jails, and the kingpins of organized crime, whom have already been arrested and convicted, are going nuts. They're intimidating everyone they can get their hands on, including prison employees and _their_ families. Believe it or not, even _other_ prisoners, who are just trying to serve out their time and get back to civilian life, are living in fear for themselves and _their_ loved ones. These threats include _innocent women_ and _children. _They're all becoming pawns in this warped chess game of murder, money laundering, drug trafficking, human trafficking—you name it—everything under the sun."

"I've read some things, but why _you,_ Joe? Can't _someone _else do it?"

"I've worked extensively with the FBI. They know me and trust me. They needed a good cop to go bad, in order to infiltrate the shit going on in there. I'll be able to give the crooks misleading information and set up traps that will stop them in their tracks. They are _getting away_ with this, and someone has to _end_ it now before there's nothing left but intimidated blackmail victims and criminals running _everything_. They _chose _me, and when the information surfaced _your_ safety was involved—after what happened to you last night—I wasn't about to say no any longer. It's a _done_ deal! Very soon I'll be arrested. I'll waive trial and plead guilty. A sentence will be handed down by a judge, and I'll be entering the New Jersey State Prison System."

Tears were falling down Steph's cheeks, and she was shaking her head. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. I could see that she was shaking.

"Baby, it's okay," I talked to her softly, but she wasn't hearing me. Hard, gulping sobs escaped. I got back on the bed and took her gently into my arms.

"It's NOT okay, Joe!" she said hoarsely.

"I know. It stinks."

"Then why in the _hell _are you doing this. You're nuts to agree to it!"

"So now I'm crazy? I went from being _everything_ to you to completely crazy in five minutes or less."

"No, you've always been crazy. That's not new," she tried to joke feebly but ended up in more tears.

"Cupcake, you know how much I love you, right?"

She nodded and hiccupped followed by another lone tear.

"Okay then—you have to know I am _not_ about to let anyone _ever_ harm so much as a single hair on your head _again! _I have the power to stop it. Do you _really _think I'm going to turn my back on that? If anything were to—" I paused, shaking my head, "I couldn't stand it here without you! I'm going in _there_ to kill two vultures with ONE stone."

"Wait a minute!" her eyes shone with excitement. "No, you don't have to! We'll just run away together. You, me, Bob and Rex just like in your dream—" She stopped dead.

"Oh my God, that wasn't a dream at _all_ was it?"

I shook my head.

"I'll _go! _If you're doing this because you think I won't go with you, I _will_ go—_a__nywhere_—I promise. We _can_ go away together. That's what you really wanted me to say the other night, wasn't it?"

"Yes and no."

"What? Why _wouldn't _you want that?"

"Because you deserve _more_ than a life on the run. I want _more_ for you than that!"

"I want to be with _you_. You are _all_ that matters to me. I'll do whatever it takes to make it happen." Her eyes were filled with stubborn determination.

"Cupcake, the _only_ thing I want you to do is _wait_ for me. If everything goes well, I want to come out of there knowing you'll be _here_."

"No."

"You won't wait?"

"No, of course I would, but I _won't _because you're NOT doing this!"

"You don't have a say in this, Steph—not when I can do what it takes to keep you safe. You have to know that _nothing_ is more important to me, and I would do _ANYTHING_ to make sure you stay alive and well."

"What else is going on here? I see that look in your eyes, and you're feeling guilty about this. It's _not_ because of the job?"

"It's _all_ because of the job and especially what I _haven't_ told you yet."

"There's _more_?" She nearly laughed sarcastically, but the anemic sound ended on another sob.

"Yes, the FBI has set the whole operation in motion. There's something I have to tell you about Kate."

Steph's eyes widened, and her back instantly stiffened.

_Shit_!

"_What about her_," she asked in a low, suspicious voice.

"She's not who you thought she was, or for that matter, who _I_ thought she was exactly."

"What does that even mean?"

"Her real name is Meghan Sullivan. She's an operative for the FBI. Kate O'Grady is her cover."

"_Excuse me_. You _knew_ she wasn't your Navy buddy's wife all along? What am I saying? It must be the meds. Of course you _knew_. You said you'd never met her before in your life. Had you worked with her on other covert operations?" Stephanie's mind was in overdrive.

_God, I didn't want to tell her the rest!_

"She was a total stranger to me when I met her this fall, and up until the other night when you came to my house, she was Kate O'Grady to me too. I was ordered to support her cover of being my Navy acquaintance, and I followed my superior's commands. They were _playing_ me, along with you and everybody else who met her. She's been here the _whole _time setting up my fall from grace and making sure all the evidence about my "criminal" activity comes to light at just the right time."

"Oh _my_ God!"

"Yeah. And there's more."

"_More_—what the _hell_ else can there be?"

I got up and paced around in a few circles. Steph was looking at me, as I did the equivalent exercise of wild Rex on his midnight run.

"I hope you _know_ what I'm about to tell you is as _hard_ for me to say as it will be for you to hear."

"Thanks, Morelli. This is easing my mind!" she snarked.

"I'm _sorry. _I truly am sorry, Steph. You have no friggin' idea how much it _kills _me to have to tell you that—"

"What in the fuck _are _you trying to say?"

"I'm trying to tell you that in order for the operation to go off without a hitch and for my peace of mind while I can't be near you, it's imperative you be OUT of the circle of _my_ life. You cannot be associated with me at _all_ right now. It's the only way to _guarantee_ you won't be under more threats or vulnerable to any further harm. I've decided to marry Kate so she can act as the decoy that keeps the criminal elements _away_ from you." Rushing the last words as I did reminded me of how Ranger spilled the insane idea to me. _Cowards—both of us._

"_I am sure I didn't hear you right_!" Stephanie's eyes were in deep shock, and her whole body looked tense as she waited for verification.

"You did. I _am_ marrying Kate this Saturday."

"Fuck you, Joe!" Steph said it with such seething emotion I knew I was in deep, deep shit for hundreds maybe thousands of years to come. I wondered how good make up sex would be after having to wait that damned long for it.

"It's to _protect_ you."

"BULLSHIT! I don't need that _fucking_ much protection! You take it back right now! This isn't fucking funny!"

"I know, Cupcake. It's not."

"NO you don't! You don't have _any_ idea what hearing you say that made me feel."

"I have a pretty fucking good idea, since I felt pretty much the same way when I heard it myself!"

"_Why_? I mean undercover agents _pose_ as married couples. They don't _actually get married_. I've seen it on TV. Hell, I even did it myself—"

She halted with screeching brakes before mentioning when and where her little marriage charade had taken place. Like we both didn't know all too well.

"We aren't on some exotic island! Everyone here _knows_ us! With the Burg gossip and my impending entry into the prison system, facts and records could be checked too easily. It has to be for _real—_on _paper_ anyway!"

"Well isn't it _convenient _that you _like_ her, and you're _attracted_ to her!" Steph wasn't focusing on the positive here at all.

"I'm _doing _this to keep you safe. That is the _ONLY_ thing that matters to me, and Kate can go to Hades for her honeymoon. As far as I'm concerned, the woman's nothing but a conniving twisted liar! Whatever '_like'_ I had is LONG gone! Believe me, _marrying _her is going to be like Chinese Water Torture when the _only_ woman on this earth I want to marry is right here in front of me."

Steph blew out her disgust and disbelief in one big snort. "Right!"

"I _mean_ it!" Her insanely stupid jealousy pissed me off. "Goddamn it! Hasn't, even ONE thing that's happened between us lately make a frickin' indentation in that stubborn as hell brain of yours!" I was yelling, because—shit—I was so tired! She was being ridiculous thinking I gave a rat's ass about Kate.

"Well now your true colors are coming out!"

"Cupcake, _think_ about it. I'm doing _everything _in my power to protect you, because I'm madly in love with _you_, and I'm sure as _hell_ NOT going to let anything happen to you!"

"What if I don't want your stupid ass way of trying to protect me?"

"I don't _care _what you _want_. This _one_ time I'm going to do what has to be done! Any man in my position would do the same!"

"What other man would even let himself get into a position like this? You could have just said NO!"

"I can't!"

"You won't!"

"Shit, Stephanie—listen, to yourself! Think about what it would be like to have this bastard who already hurt and nearly killed you come back! Add someone else to the mix hell bent on getting _my_ cooperation in prison. What does that add up to for you? For me, it adds up to the fact you would probably end up _dead_ next time, for Christ's sake! As long as I'm breathing, don't you _dare_ expect me to run with my tail between my legs and NOT do every fucking thing in this world to protect and defend you! Loving you means I'd give up my life for you, because, Cupcake, you are _EVERYTHING _to me too.

You can _accept _that I'm doing this, and we can enjoy what's left of the evening, or you can _fight _with me about it the rest of the night and waste _every _single minute we have left!"

She was completely silent, except for a few leftover, teary, hiccups.

"Well, what's it going to be?"

"Please don't _marry_ her, Joe." Her voice was soft and heartbroken.

"It's not forever. It's just until the job is over."

"You don't _know_ that for sure."

My heart softened as I heard the fear in her voice. I sat on the bed again and gently enveloped her in my arms.

"Why does it really _matter_, Steph? It's NOT going to be a _real_ marriage—just a temporary fix for a business problem. Hell, I'll be in prison for most of it."

Her hand reached out to cup my chin and bring my eyes to meet hers. "I know I have no right to want this, being that _I _was married before, but I'd always hoped the _only_ woman you'd _ever_ marry was _me_."

"You were hoping the same thing I've been dreaming of forever."

"Then _don't_ do it."

"I'm _doing_ it. But I promise you this—if and when this damned thing is over with when I come back and _we_ marry, it will be the _first _time for _us_ in _every _way that counts. I _swear_ to you it will. Nothing will take away from _that_ moment—ever."

"God, you're going to be in so much danger! I want to protect you too—more than anything on this earth. I wish I was a big burly man right now, so I could go with you and defend you against everyone who tries to hurt you." I could sense she was giving in, finally, albeit reluctantly.

I smiled, trying to imagine a big, burly, manly version of Steph. Nope. Thank God it wasn't happening.

"As soon as I get back, we're going to be making some decisions about _our_ future, Cupcake. It's time."

"Joseph Anthony Morelli, don't you even think of dying in that prison, because if you do, I'll come after you—I swear to God I will! I'll hunt you down. You think I harassed you when you were my FTA? You don't know the terror you will experience if you _ever try leaving me_!"

"I'm not planning to. I don't want to anymore than you want me too. Trust me on that, Cupcake."

"Okay." She traced over my five o'clock shadow that was more like a forty-eight hour shadow.

"You're with me on this?"

"I'm with you, Morelli, but so help me God, if you so much as _hug her,_ I am going to be so pissed you won't have to worry about toast anymore, because that's what your ass will be. If _she_ so much as lays a finger on _you, _she won't need to be afraid of dealing with the drug lords or the gangs. I'll be taking her out myself!"

I snorted, having no doubt she meant every threatening word.

"You realize no one can know I've told you about this. You have to act as upset and broken-hearted as you would if it was a total surprise. Can you do that?"

"I won't be _acting_. There is _NOTHING _about this that doesn't upset me."

"Good. This stays between us?"

"You have my word. I love you for wanting to do all of this! I still wish you wouldn't."

"It's already done, Steph. Just let me _hold_ you and tell you how many ways I'll miss you."

"I wish you could show me."

"Me too. You'd better get well fast, because, Cupcake, when I get home, we've got so much time to make up for. _M__ake up sex_ is going to take on a whole new meaning!"

I kissed her with so much desperation it scared me. I had no idea if or when I'd ever be kissing her again. I could feel from the intensely returned kisses she had those same feelings.

"You go in that prison and kick some ass, Morelli!" She'd managed to somehow pull herself together and gave me encouragement when I needed it most. Loving her more for putting on such a brave front just for me, I smiled deeply into her eyes.

"That's exactly what I intend to do, Cupcake!"

Later that night I was sitting in the massive back yard of my new pretentious abode. I'd only gotten lost three times trying to negotiate the unfamiliar floor plan. The whole place was black grey, red and white. I felt like I was in an art gallery with all the weird psychobabble paintings all over the walls. I wished with all my heart Steph was there with me so we could make fun of the enormity of the place! We'd laugh how absolutely cold and unfriendly it felt. It sure as hell wasn't home to me! I guessed it might barely beat the cold hard bars of a jail cell. Soon I would have the joy of comparing the two.

I heard a knock and looked up to see Kate standing in the kitchen by the sliding the glass doors that opened to the yard. I gave her a slight nod. She slid through the door, walking over to me a beer in hand, her eyes questioning if she was welcome. I cranked my head in silent accord, and she joined me on the five-foot high concrete lawn border.

"I thought you and I had better clear the air," she said, taking a deep swig of beer.

"You mean before we get hitched?"

"Yeah."

"This is a marriage in name only, and I don't intend to be spending any more time with you than I absolutely have to."

"I—you and I have to be seen having dinners out and sharing some displays of affection in public."

"I never agreed to that!"

"Well how do you expect anyone to _buy_ this marriage? You can't be fawning your lovesick eyes at Stephanie, and expect people _not_ to know where your heart truly is!"

"Fine, I'll _do_ what has to be done. At least I won't have to share this phony marriage with you for long because I'll be in jail soon. Imagine _that _being the bright side to my life."

"I'm sorry for everything that happened. You _have_ to believe me."

I gave her a sideways, doubting glance. "I don't."

She bit her lip and took another sip of beer. "How did Stephanie take the news?"

"_Excuse me_?" I wasn't about to spill any more beans to Kate. How the fuck did she know?

"Oh come on, Joe. There is no way in _hell_ you'd do this without telling her everything!"

"I'm under orders remember—highest security clearance."

"I _won't_ rat you out. I _know _you told her. You'd never hurt her that way! She has to know."

"You don't _know _anything!"

"I'm on _your_ side, okay? I'll never betray you again! As God is my witness, I swear it on everyone I hold dear! I have _both _your backs!"

"_Why_?" I questioned her, feeling torn again. Why in the hell did she always have me teetering between trusting her and wanting snap her in two?

"You want the truth?"

"That would be refreshing after all your damned lies."

"I know you don't care, and I know it will mean zip to you."

"More than likely that's true, but hey, I could use a good laugh, so go for it."

She set the beer on the wall and turned to face me eye to eye. She swallowed hard and her eyes grew moist. "I—I'm in _love _with you." She said it so simply and so quietly that I _almost_ believed her.

I didn't know what to say to it. My gut told me she wasn't lying. Her body language told me she wasn't too. I wanted to lash out, but something vulnerable in her eyes stopped me.

"I'm sorry." I was surprised to hear my own words.

"_Me_ too. Nothing like loving someone who will _never_ love you back. I'm very good at finding men who are unavailable for one reason or another."

"Ranger."

She nodded miserably. Goddamn it! Feeling anything for Kate was the last thing I needed even if it was only pity. I wanted _nothing_ to do with her! I was going to be standing next to her mouthing vows I didn't feel, and I'll be _damned_ if I was going to let her get under my skin _ever_ again.

"How serious did it get for you and Ranger?" I decided to take the focus _off_ me.

"It was pretty much one-sided. I was intrigued by the mystique of him. I found myself falling hard. He would appear in and out of my life as the mood struck him. He'd come into town, we'd have dinner, and then go back to my place or to his swanky hotel. I pretended it meant nothing to me, as I figured it did to him. I didn't want him to ever know how vulnerable I was. I never asked for more, and he never offered what I wanted."

"Ranger isn't one to commit to anything except his vendetta or his latest ultraistic causes—whatever they happen to be that particular week. His lack of respect for anyone's emotional commitment caused Stephanie and me a lot of mistrust and pain."

"I know. I'm past all that. It's old news. I've focused my heart on even _more_ _unattainable_ horizons." She laughed and I could hear the stress in her voice.

"Being here with me must be incredibly awkward for you."

"I do my job. I'm _good_ at it—just like you. I'll see it through."

I nodded. My mind drifted back to that last kiss with Stephanie.

"She's one hell of a lucky woman. You should _never_ doubt it."

"Yeah," I agreed smiling. "She really is, isn't she?" I grinned, and Kate snickered as she tapped me on the shoulder with her bottle before jumping down off the wall. "I'm heading up to bed."

"What?"

"I moved in this morning."

"I didn't know you were going to be living here this soon."

"Joe, we started the rumors two days ago. People need to see us together this week before we run off and elope."

"This is _really _happening." It came out under my breath, and I thought maybe she wouldn't hear me.

"Yeah, Joe, it is, and I'm _really_ sorry you have to do this instead of being with the woman you love."

"Me too."

**Steph's POV**

Mary Lou was chattering in my ear about everything under the sun. She'd volunteered to pick me up from the hospital, and my mother was insistent I stay with them for a few days. I just wanted to go home to my own place. The look of concern on Mom's face, and her red bloodshot eyes verified my father's words. She'd taken my hospitalization extremely hard. He had too. I could swear the two of them aged ten years in one night. Grandma Mazur's eyes had dark circles too. At least with her already weathered skin it was hard to tell if my attack had damaged her aging process too. The last thing I wanted was to cause them any more worry or pain.

Forcing my attention back to the chattering magpie Mare, I knew something was up. She hadn't taken a friggin' breath yet!

"Okay Mare, what's up? You talk a lot, but never this much or this fast. For God's sake, take a breath!"

"Oh Steph, I don't want to tell you what I know I have to tell you."

"Just _tell_ me already. I want to get the hell out of here before some doctor changes his mind!"

"Okay, you're going to blow a gasket, and I know it's probably a bunch of baloney, but it's best you hear it from me, your best friend and someone who's going to be here for you no matter what!"

"If you don't say it soon, I'm going to tell Lenny you have eyes for your Yoga instructor!"

"_You wouldn't_!"

"Oh yeah? Try me."

"Okay, Jeez! Hospitals sure do make you cranky!"

My eyes bore into hers, and I crossed my arms, to make my point.

"There are some terrible rumors out there about Joe."

"What kind of rumors?"

"That—oh my God—I don't believe them. I swear I don't!" Mary Lou was focusing on zipping up my overnight bag.

"Mary Lou!" I gritted my teeth at her.

"They're saying he is under investigation. My God, Steph—they think he's a cop on the take!"

Tears flowed so easily it surprised me! I guessed I wouldn't have any trouble pulling one over on family and friends. I felt a twinge of guilt. I hated lying to Mare. Joe's safety was the most important thing. I'd keep my promise to him no matter what I had to do.

"It just can't be friggin' true," Mary Lou said, trying to comfort me.

"I don't know. If you'd have asked me a month ago, I'd have said no, but lately he's been acting so erratic, you know? I'd think we were getting back together, and then at that New Year's Eve party he was kissing hussy Kate!"

"I know. That's the other thing. There's something else you need to hear, and I'd like it to come from me too rather than _anyone_ else."

"What?" I said hiding my face as I bent gingerly to lace my shoes.

"Joe was seen at some seedy bar, on State Street with a woman. They were kissing and making out in the booth. He had on some really strange get up—leather pants and a dark leather jacket and a turtleneck. When has Joe ever worn a turtleneck?"

"Who told you this?"

"Carl."

"Costanza?"

"Do you know another Carl?" Mare asked me, puzzled.

"No, but maybe it was one of Joe's brothers. You know in dim light they'd look alike, and they're always looking for sluts for one night stands. They cheat on their wives like it's a hobby. Trust me, it couldn't have been Joe."

"It _was_ Joe! He was with THAT redhead Kate! The same one Val saw him with at Pino's a few months back. The same woman who was with him at the New Year's party. I swear I'd _never_ lie to you—not about Joe!"

I stood there speechless. I hadn't expected to hear Joe was kissing anyone in public. I told myself it had to be for their cover. It sure as hell better be for anything else, or Joe wouldn't know what hit him when he got out of that prison!

"Oh God! I should have waited till we got you home. I'm so sorry."

"Just get me out of here, Mare. I can't even think about this now. "What the hell has happened? Joe never even kissed me in public like that! You know he hates open displays of affection as much as I do!"

"I know. Maybe it _was_ one of his brothers. Paulie looks the most like him, and maybe it wasn't her after all," Mare said, trying to soften the blow. "There are tons of redheads in New Jersey!"

"Yeah, it's probably a big mistake."

"Okay good, glad we got that figured out. Do you think he's crooked though?"

"Who knows? With Joe anything's possible. He's a Morelli."

"How can you be so calm about this?" Mare asked me, perplexed again.

"I'm not! I 'm really upset inside. I'm under Doctor's orders, Mare, remember—no stress. What can I do? You know me—I'll go home drown myself in a tub of ice cream, eat a dozen donuts, a hunk of pineapple upside-down cake and then cry myself to sleep!"

"Okay, I guess that's true. I'm so sorry, Steph."

"Me too. I really thought he _loved _me. I guess I'm going to have to find a way to let him go."

"I don't think that's _ever_ going to happen."

Nodding sadly, I shed a single tear and blew out a long, stress-filled gulp of air as I sat in the mandatory-for-departing patient's wheelchair. As Mare rolled me out to the hallway, I said a silent prayer for Joe's safety, and I asked God to bring him back to me soon. I _was _feeling some high anxiety over hearing about the necking in the bar business, so I added a quick PS to God, asking him to keep Catty Kate from getting her claws into my man.

Amen.

After the ritualistic Friday night dinner with my parents, I decided I needed some fresh air. After my attack, I wasn't exactly in the mood to take a walk alone. I decided the backyard might be safe enough. I loved my family, but as the rumors about Joe swirled through the Burg, I couldn't handle one more pitying look from my mother, or one more concerned as hell look from my dad. Even Grandma Mazur had been unusually subdued, patting my shoulder lovingly every time she walked by me. I felt like such a fraud, acting as though I was as shocked as everyone else.

Tomorrow was the day of Joe and Kate's marriage. I felt like crying. I couldn't stop those damn tears, if I tried. He was only marrying her to protect me, and it was because he loved me so much! Knowing, all that didn't stop the horrible ache in my stomach.

I was brought out of my melancholy thoughts by the appearance out of nowhere of Ranger.

"Babe."

Jumping a foot, my heart nearly stopped. I placed a hand over my palpitating chest and forced myself to take a deep breath.

"Ranger. You scared the _shit_ out of me!"

"I'm sorry. That was _inexcusable_. I'm _very_ sorry! How are you feeling?"

"I'm a little worse for the wear this time."

"I bet. I feel terrible that we—_I_ wasn't there to protect you."

"I was just going to the damn grocery store! Usually people get to do that without getting stabbed." Damn it! I wasn't about to cry in front of him.

Stroking my arm gently, he lightly thumbed the tears off my face. "I'm _so_ sorry. We'll find him, and he'll pay I promise you."

"I know you will. I appreciate it. I just…I have no idea why he singled me out."

"Well if there is a reason, we'll find it," he assured me.

"Thanks."

"Why the tears?" Ranger's deep, ebony eyes gauged mine.

"Just upset."

"About Morelli and all the rumors?"

"Yeah, what have you heard? Is it true?" Again, I felt bad lying to a dear friend.

"I'd never have pegged Morelli as a bad cop, so maybe there's a reasonable explanation that'll come to light."

"You think so?"

"Don't give up hope, Babe. Things turn around sometimes when you least expect it."

Ranger knew something! By God, he was keeping things from me too! I was going to find out what the hell was going on! How would Ranger know? Had Joe told me everything after all?"

Ranger pulled something from his pocket and took my right hand in his. He set a small, black velvet, oblong box onto my palm.

"What's this?"

"Remember when I gave you that watch?" His head nodded toward the box. His eyes indicated I should open it. "You asked for certain embellishments."

Removing the contents, I saw it was the same style watch he'd given me after we'd returned from Hawaii. This one was encrusted with diamonds. Shaken by everything going on with Joe and my unusual physical weakness, my emotions were off the map. As hard as I tried I couldn't contain them.

My eyes flooded, as I look up into his deep brown mirrors of mystery. "I can't— Ranger. Joe would _never _understand."

"It's a parting gift. He doesn't have to know."

"I won't keep secrets from him _ever_ again. I'd have to tell him, and I know he wouldn't like it."

"Just keep it and ask him. Maybe he'll surprise you. I get one _last_ time to spoil you." He took my left hand in his and slid the watch over my wrist clasping it firmly into place.

"Are we going to be friends someday?"

"We're friends _now_, and we always will be… _nothing_ will ever change that. You're too important to me."

"I don't even know for sure if Joe will be in the picture. I haven't seen him, and he hasn't called me since all hell broke loose. So for now I'll keep it."

"Good—that's what I wanted to hear."

"Thank you. It's just beautiful."

"You asked me for diamonds, and I said if you were a very good girl," he reminisced. "You've been _so_ good for me." His eyes held deeply hidden pain.

"You're a _really_ good man, Carlos Manoso." I squeezed his hand, and the tears trickled down my face. I couldn't help but caress his cheek too, knowing what this was costing him.

He bent and kissed my lips gently. "There's an inscription," he whispered. His eyes were glassy when he raised his head.

I waited until he left to remove the watch. Turning it over curiously, I saw it so beautifully engraved with one simple word, "Babe." I burst into tears. Sometimes one word said it all.

**Joe's POV**

I couldn't stay away from Steph. It was the night before my marriage to Kate, but I knew from the grapevine, Steph was staying at her parent's house. Sneaking out after Kate retired for the night, I'd made my way by back alleys to the Plum house. Kate and I had an early morning trip to Atlantic City planned. The idea of leaving without seeing Steph one last time was more than I could stand, even if it was only through a window. I _needed_ one last glimpse. I'd snuck around the back of the house, and I found her _there_.

It was a friggin' miracle. I was just about to make my presence known when Manoso appeared out of nowhere. I hung back in the shadows by the garage. I couldn't fucking believe it! I wasn't even gone yet, and he was making a move on her! I watched him hand her a black box, then I witnessed her allowing him to put whatever was in it on her. It was a bracelet of some kind. The way it glistened in the street lamplight it looked like fucking diamonds.

Shit!

My heart jerked painfully, as I saw her hold his hand and caress his cheek. I'd almost jumped out of hiding and decked the arrogant selfish bastard when I saw them kissing!

HOLY SHIT!

I was dumbfounded. I stood there in shock, as I watched him leave. She took the bracelet off, turned it over and burst into tears.

Manoso tears!

What the fuck just happened?

I was paralyzed. I wanted to confront her, but it didn't take a rocket scientist to see what was going on! Nothing had fucking changed! She was _still_ torn between us! I opened my mouth to ask her what in the hell was up, but the back door opened. Her mom called to her to come in out of the cold. She turned and entered the house. My moment had passed, and as it did, my life flashed before my eyes. I might _never_ see her again, and this was the last memory I would have of her, kissing another man. Not just any man.

_Manoso_.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chap****ter 22 **

**No profit not my characters! **

**Carol, Thanks for this time especially! This one needed a lot of careful thought and your guidance was essential! Thank you my friend. Thanks for your awesome Beta skills that go beyond just Beta! **

**Thanks to all who are reading. I really appreciate your time and thoughtful words!**

Joe's POV

I hadn't slept all night. The image of Stephanie and Ranger kissing was infiltrating my head— repeatedly. I tried to rationalize it or make excuses for it, but nothing I came up with seemed plausible. The only answer was my original theory that she still had deep feelings for Manoso. Feelings that had nothing to do with just the friendship she'd assured me was all she'd ever want from him.

I loaded the car with Kate's suitcase and garment bag. Adding my crap all packed into a nice new expensive leather suitcase, we headed toward Atlantic City. It was an hour and a half drive to get there, and strangely, I wasn't even sure where we were getting married or even staying? Leaving the wedding shit up to Kate, I'd signed my name to the pertinent papers and was glad no blood test was required. We had waited the seventy-two mandatory hours, and we were off to seal the deal.

Shit.

I felt lost. I needed to see Stephanie desperately. But what would she say? Would she deny it? Would she try to hide the damn gift he gave her? Would she wear it openly, like a cheap piece of costume jewelry and never tell me where it came from? Would she admit to me tearfully she wasn't over Manoso at all? What if she said as much as she loved me, she was still deeply in love with him too? Obviously she was. In spite of everything that had happened between us, she didn't have a fucking clue what or whom she really wanted!

Fine.

It didn't really matter anymore! I was getting married anyway and going to jail. She could have Manoso! Those two definitely deserved one another! The more I thought, the madder I got.

Kate had been silent, but I could feel her studying my face. Finally she spoke.

"Joe, you're driving a little too fast."

"I just want us to get our lives started as quickly as possible, _darling_!" I answered sarcastically.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing! What could possibly be wrong?"

"Should I be driving?"

"No I'm fine."

"Come on, you're anything but fine! You've been ready to punch something all morning. I saw the half empty bottle of whiskey on the bar from last night, so tell me what's eating at you?"

I took my eyes off the road looking at her for just a second and then refocused on the road, shaking my head and completely aggravated.

"Well let's see—what do _you_ think it is? Could it be I'm being forced to marry a woman I barely know, who makes a sport out of lying to me? Is it that I'm being slandered and gossiped about all over the Burg and probably beyond? Or no, maybe it's door number three where I go to jail and possibly never come out again!"

She took a deep breath, staring out her window at the passing scenery.

Silence.

_Good! That I could deal with!_

"I know this stinks for you. I really do." I heard the sympathy in her voice and it just served to piss me off more.

"You have _no _idea!"

"If you need to talk about it, vent, yell, I'd understand."

"No, you wouldn't. You had no qualms when you set me up! Don't you fucking pretend you care!"

"I do _care!_ If there was _anything_ I could do or say, I would."

"You wanna do something for me? Shut-up! Put some loud music on the radio and _shut the fuck up!"_

Her hand was shaking slightly as she played with the dials tuning into a station.

My body shook with rage. Maybe I _shouldn't_ be driving. I forced myself to pull back from the anger.

"I'm tired, okay, so just drop the act! Let's try not to make an already shitty day worse."

"I swear to God, I'm not acting!" She insisted on pushing my buttons. "Just tell me what's on your mind."

"I really don't want to talk about it! I need to think about something else."

"Okay, what do you want to talk about?"

"I don't fucking know! I can't focus on _anything_ right now."

"What do you do to get away from it all? You know, when things get rough and you need a break."

Giving her a brief sideways glance, I took a deep breath and answered. "I like the ocean. I started scuba diving when I was in the Navy, but let me guess. You _already_ knewthat, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Why did you even ask me then?" Irritation pricked my nerves. I hated being a bug under her microscope. How dare she study me like a specimen in order to make it easy to get me to dance like a controlled puppet.

"You said you needed to think of something else. I was trying to help you do that!"

"Right! Like a good little wife should!" _Anyone_ sharing space with me in that moment would have felt my wrath. I was so fucking on edge! Feeling that betrayal all over again, knowing that I couldn't trust anyone—not Stephanie—not Kate—not my superiors—and by fucking God not Manoso! Who wasn't betraying me? I could pick any one of them. I was loaded for a fight.

Kate was the lucky winner! I was ready to rip her head off.

"Joe, I want to help you."

"Why don't you just leave me the hell alone?"

"I was just trying to get your mind off—"

"If I need you for something, I'll let you know. Right now you are the _last_ thing in this world I want or need. So, with that in mind, maybe you could just keep your friggin' trap shut until you have to vow your undying love to me, and I have to lie through my teeth to you! It's _almost_ funny, huh? I'm the one who gets to do all the lying from here on out."

Her eyes filled with tears. One hard lonely sob escaped.

Was I feeling better by treating Kate cruelly? No.

She faced me and her voice was tear-streaked, but firm as hell. "You know something? This is going to be just as fucking dangerous for me as it is for you! I am giving up everything for this stupid ass job— again! Do you even care that when the crime lords or gang members decide to target me as your _wife_ to get _you_ to do their bidding, I could end up dead too! Does that fact even penetrate your idiotically, stubborn head?"

I felt bad. She was right. Neither of our lives held a rosy future. She could be killed while trying to protect Stephanie _and_ me. It hadn't really ever entered my mind. I knew she was good at her job, but these were not penny anti criminals we were dealing with here. It was the underbelly of syndicate crime bosses and maniacal gang members. Those evil monsters wouldn't think twice before killing anyone.

"You're right I haven't given you much thought. I've been angry with you—so angry that I guess I ignored what this might mean for you too."

"I understand your mistrust. I did a lot of scheming and lying, and I'm not proud of it. I am here to help you whether you realize it or not. The marriage wasn't my idea!"

"Whose idea was it _exactly_."

She said nothing.

"Manoso?"

She nodded.

"Fuck!"

"For what it's worth, I think he wants it for the most part to protect Stephanie. I don't think he has ulterior motives. I'm being honest with you!"

"These jobs of ours kind of take honesty out of the equation."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

I took a deep breath, cleared my head and made an effort. I wasn't as angry anymore. Her anger and her reasoning were indications maybe she was telling the truth—for once. I felt bad she might be giving up everything for her job, just as I was for mine. We actually had that in common. Who else could understand what we were going through, but us? I couldn't overlook the irony of the situation.

"So Kate, what do you do when you need to get away from all the shit?" I needed to be appreciative for her sacrifice. I might never have a chance to thank her if things went bad for either or both of us, but the bottom line was that her job _was_ every bit as deadly as mine could be.

She smiled a little.

"When I'm feeling burned out, I like to spend as much time as I can with my family. There are times though when I need peace and quiet. So sometimes I like to take off alone too, taking a few days at the ocean, which is one of my favorite places on earth. What I really love too is getting a little cabin in the mountains with trees and streams all through it. It's so tranquil. You can actually hear yourself think there."

The idea of the getaway was something I needed desperately. Maybe if I did get out of this alive, that's where I'd go. "What mountains?"

"I've gone to a couple of places I love. One is in Virginia—it's just gorgeous! There's a panoramic view all around it. You can get a cabin or rent a house, and they even have this custom made tree house that is magnificent. What about you, where do you go to get away from it all?"

"Point Pleasant—if it's just a short weekend in the summer."

"Where do you scuba dive?"

"Oh, you know—I've been to California and Florida and on a couple of the islands."

"In Hawaii?"

"Hell NO!"

"What's wrong with Hawaii?"

"I don't want to talk anymore. Just turn the music up!" I felt my foot push harder on the gas pedal while those damn moments of betrayal in Hawaii slapped me in the face again. It was as if they'd happened yesterday. _Oh yeah, more of them did just happen yesterday!_

"We're heading to the Borgata Water Club," Kate said as the exits for Atlantic City appeared. You need to take Exit H from the Atlantic City Expressway.

I followed her directions, while blowing out deep breaths of frustration and trying to find some semblance of calm.

"The wedding is this afternoon at four."

"I thought we were going this early, because the wedding was late morning?"

"We have appointments. For you—a nice massage at the spa, and for me— hairdresser, nails that kind of thing. It's all inclusive with our stay."

"I don't do spas."

"Well today you do. But it's not until two, so you can do whatever you want until then."

I wanted to turn the car around, turn back time, and interrupt Stephanie and Ranger's little rendezvous. Getting my life back where it was before all this covert undercover/sham marriage bullshit came into it would have been my deepest wish. Unfortunately, that wasn't going to happen. There was no turning back the clock.

What I wanted no longer mattered.

"So please, tell me we're not getting married in a sleazy chapel somewhere with Elvis impersonators or clowns?"

"No, we're getting married at the hotel by the indoor pool. It's going to be quick and as painless as possible under the circumstances."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "That would be good."

"I did bring a dress, and in your garment bag, there's a new suit. I've arranged for hotel employees to be our witnesses. There's—" she hesitated."

"What?"

"There's going to be cake, champagne and flowers."

"Wow, we're going all out!"

And one more thing—"

"Let me guess a choir of angels and a harp?"

"No!" she snapped. "I hired a photographer. We _need_ pictures."

"Of course—you have to add to your Internet fantasy bullshit!"

She crooked her neck at me. I could see she was kind of ticked. I smiled. Good. Nothing like keeping the little woman happy! Talk of our impending marriage was bringing my rage back to the forefront.

"The pictures are for _your_ family, and the marriage announcement in the paper. And yes, I can't _wait_ to add to the bullshit on the Internet!" She was definitely mad. She turned the radio off just to annoy me no doubt.

Pulling up to the hotel I got my first glimpse of the Borgata Water Club. _Holy Shit_! I hadn't expected anything this elaborate. The building was a multi-storied high rise with mirrored windows. A valet came up to the car, and a bellboy took care of our bags transferring them onto a fancy cart. I threw some of my crooked cop allowance at the valet and the bellhop.

We were obviously expected. As soon as we gave our names at the front desk, we were met by a concierge who whisked us right up to our penthouse suite. He introduced himself as Juan. Apparently the God's were NOT smiling on me at _all_ anymore, because he looked like he could be Manoso's younger brother.

_Yeah, this was going to be a fun day._

Juan informed us of all the amenities available to a newlywed couple. Giving us helpful suggestions for our stay in Atlantic City he demonstrated all the gadgets and buttons on the wall panel. After his spiel was over, he told us he was honored to be one of the two witnesses at our wedding. What more could I want? I got to have a Ranger clone at my shotgun wedding instigated by _him_. Who needed Elvis impersonators?

I gave Kate a dubious look. Whispering to her suspiciously, I asked, "What's with the fancy hotel suite and the Ranger clone? Did you hire him just to torture me?"

"It's all part of the wedding package, _darling_!" She oozed charm and sweetness, smiling for the benefit of our host, but her eyes were cold and her voice mimicked my earlier endearment in both tone and derision.

I threw some more inordinate cash at the bellboy who had just appeared with the luggage. I shut the door and took in my surroundings. The room was massive! There was a view of the city below as far as the eye could see. The suite was modern to the point of uncomfortable for me. Talk about a fish out of water—again! I blew out the stress and pain that had been eating away at me since the moment last night by the Plum's garage. I found myself wishing for Stephanie, in spite of the fact I was pissed as _hell _at her! I wanted her there, to marvel at the amazing view and be my companion. We'd be fish flapping crazily together on dry land. I _had_ to stop thinking about her! She was a dead end to nowhere.

"Now, what?" I asked, not having a clue what to do with myself while we waited for the witching hour.

"I could use a drink!"

"Isn't it a little early?" I asked surprised Kate needed libation to get through the day as much as I did.

"Don't you want one?"

"Hell yeah."

Walking around the crescent shaped bar in the corner of the room, she searched and came up with two glasses and a nice full bottle of whiskey. She played bartender, making us both a stiff drink.

I've got a half hour before I need to get to my appointments. You have about two hours before yours."

"Is there a gym here?"

"Yes and two indoor pools."

Great! I needed to work some of my anger off to make it through this fucking day.

"We need to be ready for the wedding no later than three-thirty."

"Fine."

"Joe, you have to do better at _acting_ the part!"

"Why? No one knows us here!" Taking a swig of the amber liquid, I was hoping to calm my nerves.

"Because this is supposed to be _your_ wedding day! People will catch on quickly back in Trenton too if you keep this up!"

"Well, how about _you _indulge in _your_ little fantasy and leave _me_ the hell out of it! I mean you're in love with me, right? All your dreams are coming true! You get to marry me. I'm quite a fucking catch especially with all this funny money I've embezzled! Maybe we should get a prenup! What part of my holdings do you want? Bob—or the little row house I inherited from my aunt? What will make the little woman happy?"

"You think I'm _happy? _You _ignorant _jackass! You think it's _fun_ to be with a man that I'm deeply in love with and have him _barely _want to look at me, let alone treat me with any kindness! You're _crazy_ if you think this is _my _fantasy! I didn't ask for this! I didn't expect to have feelings for you! You _arrogant bastard!_ I sure as hell didn't want to fall in love with another unavailable jerk! I hate that I am doing this to you! I hate that you wish I were someone else! I hate this job! And I hate myself for lying to you for so long!" She broke down in tears.

_Shit! I hate it when women cry!_

"Let's just get this over with Kate, and don't cry. You won't have to put up with me for long. I'll be locked up soon enough!"

Looking at me as if I'd grown two heads and a forked tongue, she swiped at her eyes. "I love you, you _son of a bitch_! Do you really think I _want _you to go into that jail cell anymore than Stephanie does?"

"Don't you even—"God damn it!" I was _angry_! How dare she compare herself and her feelings to Stephanie's feelings for me? Sadly, I had to remind myself I didn't even know what the hell those were for sure anymore.

She must have been nuts, because she kept talking. "I know this is killing you, and you wish it was _her_ that you were marrying today!"

"Don't keep talking, I'm warning you!"

"Just admit it!" She yelled.

"I don't want to marry _anybody_! Okay? Not _you_—not _Stephanie_! NOT _anymore_!"

Kate's eyes squinted quizzically. "What the hell happened?"

"Nothing! It's none of your fucking business!"

"_Something_ happened!" She insisted on pushing it.

"You want to know what happened? I'll tell you! That ex-lover-boy of yours was making the moves on Stephanie last night. That's what fucking happened!" I set my whiskey down so hard the brown liquid splashed all over the damned space-aged coffee table.

"Are you kidding?" She looked genuinely surprised, but could I trust anything she said or did? Hell no.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" My eyes flashed my anger.

"No. Oh, God, I'm sorry."

"Are you? Seems to me it's all a little _too _perfect. Did you and Manoso plan the whole damn thing so you could get me _here_, and he could have Stephanie all to himself? I mean you two have been in cahoots for years. Maybe you _are_ over him, and maybe you're helping him get the _one_ woman he does want— mine!"

"You've got to be joking! Do you really think the FBI would sanction all this?" She held her arms out indicating our pricey room, "and spring for a wedding, in a swanky hotel, just to keep you and Stephanie apart? I don't think so! Think about what you're saying! It's ridiculous! I would _never _do that to you!"

"I don't know how far you'll go or what you'll do—Manoso either for that matter. All I know is she was kissing him last night! I'm not even in fucking prison yet, and he's started his damned poaching again! He gave her a piece of jewelry—_very _expensive jewelry. Diamonds, I think. Did you help him pick it out, Kate?"

"I don't know anything about any jewelry! I don't have anything to do with what is or isn't happening with Stephanie and Ranger!"

"I don't believe _one_ slimy word out of your mouth. I've had enough of this! I'm going to take a shower, get into my gym clothes and try my hardest to work off the reeking stench of this day and my entire life!"

After two hours of strenuously working out and an hour of a much needed, but grudgingly accepted, massage, followed by a surprise haircut—also initiated by Kate—I was no closer to feeling ready for the bogus charade ahead of me.

At four o'clock sharp, I stood under some kind of pergola that was at the end of a long blue pool inside the hotel. There were flowers intertwined in the wood slats, and Kate was standing across from me, wearing a mid-length white silky dress with a plunging V-neckline that went almost as low in the back. I was wearing the new Italian, navy silk suit and had a flower in my lapel. Kate held a cascading bouquet of the same flowers that surrounded us. It felt shitting real! Damn! The only thing missing was the groom's love for the bride.

The minister took his place. He was an old guy with a Grandma Mazur-like withered face, bifocals and a grey balding head. The two hotel employees stood one on either side of us. I'd met the second witness—another concierge whose name was Rachel. She was about five six with medium length, curly brown hair and blue eyes a shade lighter than Stephanie's. The hair was shorter, but Steph had worn hers in almost the same style after the time I'd taken her to Mr. Alexander's right after the Cluck in the Bucket disaster.

She wasn't a Stephanie clone, or anything, but I nearly snorted because it was like having Manoso and Stephanie witnessing my demise. Shit! If it weren't so pathetic, it'd be funny. I had to wonder if Rachel had black hair and brown eyes, if I'd _still_ be thinking it was Steph. My mind was so filled with thoughts of her.

The minister instructed us to take one another's hands. It was all I could do to bring myself to touch Kate. Her hands were cold and shaking. My own were cold and clammy. I forced myself to look into her eyes—eyes as beautiful as the first day I'd met her. Eyes I would _never_ trust. She was actually looking at me lovingly. Even though I'd been treating her like shit.

I felt guilt. Why the hell should I feel guilty about _anything_! Everyone and their brother were lying to me. I _shouldn't _feel bad. I could feel whatever I fucking wanted to feel. I heard the minister's words, and repeated what I was told to say when I was told to say it. I'd planned to think of Stephanie as I was saying the vows to soften the blow she wasn't the woman I was saying them to. But now I had to look at Kate's face and keep my mind as far away from Stephanie as I could, which was nearly impossible.

We exchanged rings. I felt the cold, gold band sliding over my finger, and I wanted to rip it off and throw the damned thing into the pool. I took Kate's slimmer band and slid it over her ring finger. I heard the minister pronouncing us husband and wife.

"You may kiss your bride," he finished.

Shit!

I hesitated.

"Mr. Morelli, you may kiss Mrs. Morelli now."

_Goddamn it_! She was _not_ Mrs. Morelli! It was all I could do not to throw the minister into the fucking pool.

I got a hold of my emotions and bent my head to kiss Kate. Our lips met, our arms embraced and she kissed me as if she thought I really _was_ her loving husband. I put on a show for the witnesses by pretending to kiss her back, but my mouth remained tightly shut.

We pulled away from one another. "Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Morelli. I hope you have a very long and happy life together. _Oh, how my nerves were grating!_

The witnesses congratulated us. The minister shook my hand I passed him a nice sum of cash, figuring why not? It wasn't mine!

Kate and I were left standing alone. The cake was displayed on a table with a silver ice bucket of Champagne and two crystal glasses. The photographer, who looked like a friggin' teenager, wore an oversized, wrinkled suit and plaid bowtie. He was sporting nerdy glasses and a nineteen fifties haircut and had been snapping pictures the entire time. I guessed we had a clown after all! He urged us to go cut and feed each other the cake. I wanted to grab the camera, stomp it with my feet and throw him in the Jacuzzi tub off to the side of the pool.

We did as we were told, feeding one another cake. Painful memories of all the times Steph and I'd shared cake came flooding back. I gulped down the entire glass of champagne and poured myself more, downing it just as fast. Kate was watching me, trepidation clearly in her eyes. I poured a third glass and made short work of it too.

"So how does it feel to be married to the _man of your dreams_?" I asked sardonically.

"Joe, I think we should go back to the room."

"Oh yeah. That's right, HONEY. We're supposed to get right up there and have some mad, passionate, mind-blowing sex. That's what everyone is expecting right? Even you?"

"I think if you keep drinking and making a big scene, no one is going to believe for one minute you entered into this willingly."

"Well, I didn't, so why the hell should they?" I took another full glass of bubbly.

"We've got food waiting for us upstairs. Let's go," she ordered me.

"What? Married ten minutes, and you've already become a nag!" I scoffed, grabbing the second bottle of Champagne to take with us.

"I'll go with you," the photographer said. "I want to get a shot of him carrying you over the threshold."

"No," Kate put her hand up. "That won't be necessary."

"Oh, sure it is! Come on, _sweetheart_! Don't you want a nice memory of that _moment _we'll never get back?" I motioned to the photographer to come with us, and we made our way to the elevators.

I handed the champagne bottle to Kate. As we got to the suite door, I did as was expected of me. Sliding my keycard into the door, I swooped Kate right up into my arms.

Photo-bug Junior was all set to take the picture. "Okay Mr. Morelli—how about a nice passionate kiss with Mrs. Morelli before you carry her over the threshold?"

_How about I take that camera and shove it down your scrawny throat!_

I did my best imitation of a passionate kiss. Luckily, our own private paparazzi was clicking away, never noticing my lips were firmly planted on Kate's chin. It was tempting to give back to Stephanie all the freaking pain she'd given me, but what would that accomplish? I just wanted to get this fiasco over with, and as soon as the door shut on the freakishly, cheery photographer, it would finally be over.

Setting Kate down, I felt a little wobbly. I hadn't eaten anything all day, but one bite of cake. I'd had two more whiskeys or was it three? I guess I lost count before dressing for the circus by the pool. Weaving a little from being both exhausted and slightly drunk, I had to hold on to the doorframe to keep my balance.

"You need to eat," she said, pulling the domed lids off a feast fit for the fake-as-hell honeymooners.

She took some grapes and held one up to my lips. My eyes caught hers as she fed me. The desire to forget how much I hated her and myself came over me. I felt desperate to escape from every reality I was facing, but I wasn't about to be _that_ stupid!

"You need to eat more. You're a little smashed." My sweet wife informed me.

"No, I need to lie down. The room is spinning a little."

Throwing my suit jacket with the wilting flower to the chair, I kicked off my shoes, nearly tripping and falling over my own feet in the process. Loosening the choking tie, I practically fell to the bed. No sleep the night before combined with three or four whiskeys earlier and four glasses of champagne downed in quick succession had me pretty disoriented.

I laid there closing my eyes on what was promising to be a debilitating, migraine headache. I was married! To the wrong woman! Why wouldn't I have a headache!

Shit!

If it had been Stephanie I was married to, it would have been a much different scenario than what I was currently experiencing. Her clothing would be on the floor by now, along with mine. We'd be so far into celebrating our union we wouldn't have even known if it were day or night. We'd have missed seeing the food in the room until much later, except for maybe the cake. We'd both have taken the cake and used it in oh so many creative ways. God, I missed her! I drifted off to sleep thinking about Stephanie and then Ranger, and the whole damned mess that was my life.

I had no idea how much time passed, but I opened my blurry eyes and saw a woman wearing an emerald green negligee. She smiled when she saw me stir and made her way over to the bed, lying down next to me. I figured I had to be dreaming and closed my eyes falling back to sleep. I felt her butterfly kisses on my neck, and I stirred. "Cupcake, I'm _really _tired. Can we do this later?"

A whispered "no" was all I heard when I felt lips cajoling mine to open up. I automatically kissed her back. "Steph I _mean_ it, I'm not up for this."

I felt the kiss deepening. I could never resist her, so I grabbed her to me and kissed her back with equal passion. I guess if Steph wanted me this bad I'd sleep later. The silky material under my hands suddenly became flesh, and I could feel her skin soft and yielding.

"I love you Stephanie," I murmured, forcing my eyes to open so I could look into hers.

Shock infiltrated my mind as reality registered, mowing me down like train!

"Kate, what in the fuck do you think you're doing!"

"Making love to my husband what does it feel like I'm doing? You said you didn't want _her_ anymore, so I thought maybe you'd want a little escape from everything with me."

"No." The headache was pounding now, and I felt woozy. I tried to get up and fell back to the pillows.

She took advantage of my stupor and continued perusing my body with her hands.

"Listen, you and I could be dead in a month or two. We may never have another chance for anything like this, Joe. I know you wanted me that night in your kitchen. I could feel it. You'd want me now too if you'd just let yourself enjoy it."

"No." I tried to push her off me. She pushed down on my chest in a forceful way that told me she meant serious business.

"_Yes_! You _were_ going to kiss me. You wanted to know what my lips felt like on yours. I could feel it, and at New Years too. Remember that sexual chemistry we had? We're here alone in a hotel room far away from everyone and everything. Our lives could be ending. We could be heading to our deaths! Don't you want to stop thinking and just enjoy the moment while we still can."

She plastered her body on top of mine and kissed me passionately. I felt confused and torn. Here was this woman ready to give herself to me, and I could take it. I could release my pain about Stephanie and Ranger kissing, and just live in a stolen moment. Who would know? Who would care! Stephanie had Ranger. Maybe she'd always had him, and I'd deluded myself into believing she'd chosen me?

I felt my body weakening as it responded to Kate's ministrations. Her flesh was so pliant under my fingers. Her breasts were voluptuous and tempting, and I was feeling things I never expected to feel. I pulled her closer and kissed her back.

As I did I heard my father laughing. The same sharp penetrating tone he'd used when he beat me, wielding his buckled belt. His cackles were wicked and haunting.

I tried to drown it out by flipping Kate over on her back, burying my lips into the hollow of her neck. The accusing recriminations of Roscoe Morelli grew louder. My head was throbbing. I tried to ignore him. Why was that bastard laughing at me?

I kissed Kate with more determination to drown that asshole out! I had _nothing_ to lose. I'd already lost _everything._ I was going to jail. It was true I might not live much longer. Everyone back home was gossiping and whispering about how I'd finally, turned into a true Morelli! Why the hell not be who everyone had expected me to be all along!

She kissed me harder, beckoning to me to fulfill her needs. Her emerald eyes dilated with desire for me. Her voice was ragged with passion "I love you! You're _everything_ to me, Joe."

It was as though an iceberg crashed into my body. I stopped kissing her. Hearing almost the same exact words uttered from Kate that Stephanie had used in the hospital stopped me cold. Feeling a burst of red-hot energy, I shot up off the bed.

The memory of Stephanie's dazzling smile and shining eyes washed over me. She'd told me I was everything to her and to _never_ doubt it. I'd been doing _nothing_ but doubting it. Oh my God! What had I almost done? I had flashbacks of all the moments we'd shared. The day she'd come to my house when I'd been so drunk right after our breakup. How solicitously she'd cared for me. She'd brought me that amazing Morelli Moments Journal, showcasing her lifelong, deeply cherished love for me.

More recollections came rushing back! The moments in the park where I'd found her nearly frozen with shock and in despair I might be interested in someone else. Our reunion just days ago at her apartment where everything was so clear for us both. We'd made love in a way that defied our physical needs and transcended loveless, empty sex to a higher degree than we'd ever experienced. She'd felt it. I had too.

I'd put that Sapphire ring on her finger and asked her to trust me. What in the _hell_ was I thinking? She'd said she did, and look at what I'd almost allowed to happen with Kate. Rehearing her words of warning I was NOT to so much as hug Kate, and she was not to lay _one_ finger on me filled me with regret! Just the other day we'd shared our mind-blowing peanut butter make up session! We'd laughed and made love and told one another in secret whispers how much we treasured our life together.

Whatever happened between her and Ranger was NOT what I thought it was! Something deep in my gut told me I was _wrong_. She'd jumped in shock the moment Ranger had arrived. She hadn't been expecting him or his gift. She'd been crying before he got there, and I knew it was about us and my decision to enter prison. I knew she'd been in tears over all of it—especially what was to happen the next day.

I'd been so close to taking that one _last _moment with her. I could've _kicked_ myself for forgetting everything I'd known in my heart. I'd almost completely turned my back on her and betrayed her in the worst possible way. She'd never have forgiven me.

Worse yet I'd very nearly _become_ my father! The man I abhorred. The man I vowed I would _never_ be. I'd come too close to using a woman to _forget_ who I was. I'd worked my entire life to be an honorable man. I'd allowed myself to drink too much and became an easy target.

The damned mission ahead of me, and the fact my reputation was being dragged through the mud had already started to change me. I couldn't afford to let it happen. I had to believe I'd get through the operation, come out of it alive and have a life with the _only _woman who ever totally understood how bound and determined I was not to turn into the man I detested. She knew me—inside and out. There was no doubt she loved me as much as I loved her.

Kate had moved off the bed, grabbing a robe and tying it quickly. I could see she was fighting tears. She watched silently as I drew new conclusions. I should've known the moment it'd happened. Stephanie loved _me_. There was no way in hell that whatever had been going on with Manoso was even _close_ to what we had. We'd been separated for so damned long! We both had known it was coming to an end—forever. If we hadn't been wrenched apart by my shitty job, we'd be planning _our _wedding!

Kate came up to me, caressing my cheek. Her eyes were filled with sadness.

My hand shot out and threw her hand off my face. "What in the _hell_ are you trying to do to me? I am NOT my father. I am not those fucking Morelli men!"

"What are you talking about, Joe?"

"I won't use you to get past my feelings for _her! _She knows me. She loves me. I don't need to escape from myself when I'm with her, because when I'm with her is when I find my true self. This isn't real. I am _not _your husband. I am _not_ _ever _going to be your lover."

We had a stare down. Her eyes acknowledged my words, accompanied by a silent nod. I could see the tears were winning as they fell down her cheeks.

Scrambling to button my shirt, I grabbed the leather jacket I'd worn on the drive there off the hangar in the closet. "I've got to get out of here and get some air."

I went to the roof. It was getting dark and the lights of Atlantic City twinkled all around me. I felt like I'd just freed myself from another kind of prison. The fresh air cleared my head, and I breathed it in deeply. I'd nearly betrayed _myself _tonight. I couldn't afford to do that ever again.

Suddenly I remembered something I'd forgotten in all the turmoil of the last few days. Something good! I'd arranged a surprise for Stephanie. I knew this day would be total torture for us both, and I'd racked my brain trying to figure out a way to make it better.

I'd come up with the perfect answer. Why not use the same things the criminals did to avoid being intercepted? We needed that to get through the days ahead.

She'd received a prepaid, non-traceable cell phone from me by messenger that afternoon. If all went according to plan, she'd be waiting to hear from me. At least I hoped she was. I _needed _to hear her voice. Grabbing the matching phone from my jacket pocket, I pushed the buttons. My fingers were shaking with anticipation.

She picked up the phone on the first ring. I wondered if she'd been holding it since it arrived.

"Hey Cupcake."

"Oh my God—thank you for this! You don't know how badly I needed to hear your voice."

"Probably about as much as I needed to hear yours." My eyes got moist instantly. It was evident I'd been about to make the worst mistake in the history of my existence. She _loved_ me. I could hear it and _feel_ it.

"I got your message, Joe. It was so perfectly timed. I was having one of the _worst_ days of my life when I saw your card, saying, "I wish it was you. It will be you." Her voice broke as she tried to convey what my message meant to her.

"I meant it, Cupcake. _I wish it was you more than you know_."

"Did it happen?" she asked me hesitantly.

"Yeah."

"You're still mine, Morelli. Don't you _ever_ forget it!"

"I won't." I made a silent vow to her I'd never again—not for one second.

"Was it as awful as you imagined?"

"Worse." I grinned.

"Was she a pretty bride?"

"I couldn't tell you. I wasn't thinking about _her_."

I heard a soft gulp that might have been crying. "Are you crying?"

"Shit no—you know I hate to cry! Wow, have you got an ego, Morelli."

That made me smile. "You big baby!" I teased.

"Where was it?"

"By the pool inside the hotel."

"Was it nice?"

"Stephanie, why do you want to know? You're just torturing yourself for _nothing_!"

"I've been trying to picture it _all _day."

"Well stop. Don't! I didn't want to be here. I promise you I still don't."

"I love you! I should be feeling guilty saying that to a married man."

"I love you too." I'm not married in my heart—not yet."

"Did you kiss her?" Steph wasn't one to leave anything alone. Curiosity was her middle name.

"Yeah." Guilt rankled in my throat. Tears burned behind my eyes. I'd tell her the truth when I could be honest in person, but not now—not when she was still recovering, and I couldn't hold her or look into her eyes. She'd have to understand. Somehow I'd make her understand. It wasn't anything I'd planned, and I felt like I'd been trapped by my own weakness. It was my despair over _everything_. The future was so cloudy, and I'd felt hopeless. I didn't anymore.

Somehow she always gives me hope.

"Was it—?"

"NO! Please stop wasting time asking me about _her._ Just tell me about you. How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Are you going crazy at your parents?"

"I'm fine. I'm getting a little better all the time. I'm so much better now that I hear your voice. And my parents are being wonderful _and_ irritating! They're so worried about me because of all the rumors about you. And the only thing I need is—_you."_

That made me grin from ear to ear.

I'm sorry to put everyone through this—e_specially_ you."

"I know. Who has Bob?" she asked.

"Mooch. I couldn't ask you, Steph. It would be an association with me."

"I know. I miss him."

"I'm sure he misses you."

"Who's going to watch him when you go into jail?"

"Kate, I'd imagine. She'll be at the new house."

"What's the house like?"

"A cold mausoleum. You'd hate it! I hate it!"

"Ranger stopped by last night."

"He did?" My heart jumped.

"Yeah, he scared the shit out of me—appeared out of nowhere as usual."

"And?" _Oh God!_ _She was telling me_.

I was the one who was scared. I held my breath.

"He brought me a little gift. It's a watch—"

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I wasn't going to keep it, Joe. I really wasn't, but he asked me too."

"What was if for—exactly."

"It was because he said—" I could hear her take a deep breath. "Okay this isn't easy. Telling you now could upset you. You're with Kate, and I don't want you upset and mad at me when you're around her sneaky claws. By the way, is she behaving?"

"She doesn't have a choice," I assured her quickly.

"That's a relief!"

"So you're not going to tell me?" I was hoping she wouldn't do her old dance-around-the-issue routine.

"No, I _am_. No more secrets no more lies, I swear! Promise me you won't yell."

"I promise."

_God, I felt like a huge jerk!_

"Okay. He gave me a watch just after Hawaii. It was a plain one I suspected he'd given to me to disguise a tracking device."

I swore under my breath.

"I stupidly teased him about how pretty it would be with diamonds all over it."

God, now I had to hold my breath and suppress the urge to yell.

"Are you there?" she asked timidly.

"Yeah." My voice didn't conceal my displeasure.

"I was kidding. I swear I was."

"Go on."

"His answer was only if I was a very good girl."

"Fuck!" So much for the holding my temper.

"Joe?"

"Go ahead."

I hoped by the end of this conversation I wouldn't want to go right back upstairs and start with Kate where I'd left off. There was no chance in hell of that happening, but the frustration of hearing about Ranger and his little surprise wasn't doing much to alleviate my fears.

"He told me he was giving it to me as a _parting_ gift—his _last_ chance to spoil me. He said I'd been good for him." Her voice was teary. _Shit!_ They _were _Manoso tears.

"I felt so bad about everything I'd done, leading him on in a way, knowing we'd never be—"

"You kept it."

"Yeah, but I'll give it back if you want me too."

"No, it's your decision. I'll respect it."

"There's one more thing."

"_What_?"

"He put an inscription on the back of it."

Now everything I'd wondered was becoming clear. "Let me guess. One word."

"Yes."

"Great!"

"I'll give it back."

"No, Cupcake—keep it. I know it means a lot to you. I know he does too."

"I won't keep it if it hurts you, Joe. I'm not that _stupid_ anymore."

"As long as you've wizened up, and you still choose me."

"Are you kidding? You know me! Wise ass is my middle name."

"Yeah. I know. You've got more than one of those middle names."

She made me smile, and my totally shitty day had turned into a distant memory just by the sound of her voice.

"Do you have separate rooms?" Back to the questions! She was obviously not satisfied with letting it go.

"No. It's a suite."

"Two beds?" she asked hopefully.

"No."

A rush of guilt poured over me like cold rain.

"Oh."

"There's a couch, okay? I intend to use it. I don't even know if it folds out, but I promise you, I'll be on it tonight."

"Alone."

"All alone and lonely."

"Good! You see to it, Joe, or else! Lonely better be _your _new middle name."

"What was my old one?"

"Just keep the one you have now!"

"You're such a Cupcake."

"You're such a—man"

I heard tears in her voice. Neither of us wanted to hang up.

"I'll call you again tomorrow. We should be heading home by the late afternoon."

"Okay, thank you for going to all this trouble so we could talk."

_Guilt hounded me._

"Steph, I want to tell you something, It's pretty mushy for us, so I'm warning you."

"Okay, mush away." She laughed that tinkling chuckle of hers I loved so damned much.

"I just want you to know _you're_ the reason I was able to pull myself out of being a true Morelli man all these years. You were _always_ in the back of my mind even when we weren't together. When we became a couple, I _knew_ I'd found the _one_ woman that would _never_ let me lose myself. That's why you're home to me, and you always will be."

I heard her crying.

"Jeez! Morelli."

I wished I could kiss those tears away and make love to her. God, I missed her!

"Love you, Cupcake."

"I love you, and I want you home!"


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

**No profit. Not my characters.**

**Carol Thanks for being my constant sounding board. It wonderful to have someone I trust so completely for honesty, humor, and great advice! You are such a great friend!**

**To those of you reading and reviewing thanks for sticking with the story and letting me know how you like it and how it touches you. I really appreciate it. **

**Joe's POV**

The "happy" newlyweds were back in Trenton.

We'd only returned a few hours ago. I checked my watch nervously. We were parked outside of my mother's house. The morning edition of The Trenton Times would be printing a notice of our nuptials; complete with a picture of the bride and groom. Letting my family find out any other way than directly from me was unthinkable.

The big question was—how could I look my mother in the eye while proudly announcing I'd gotten married to a woman I could barely stand to look at?

Calling ahead, I'd only informed her I was coming for a visit and bringing someone. I knew Mom would be peaking out the window soon. Italian mothers liked keeping a close eye on their offspring.

"Are we going to sit out here all night?" Kate asked impatiently.

Kate wasn't happy with me, not by a long shot. She'd barely spoken to me since our almost catastrophic wedding night. To be honest, that was fine by me.

"No, but I hate the thought of going in there. Unlike you, I detest lying to anyone."

I got out of the car and made my way around to open Kate's door.

"Put on your happy face, sweetheart," she instructed me needlessly. "This isn't a _joke._ Everyone—and I mean _absolutely _everyone—has to believe this _marriage_ of ours is for real,_ in every sense of the word, _if you really want to protect your precious Stephanie."

"I am _well_ aware of what's at stake here, Kate." I snapped.

"Good—then put your arm around your bride and smile for _all_ your worth!"

Anger had laced every paltry word she'd spoken to me since our wedding." I could see the pain in her eyes, but she'd lost every ounce of my sympathy. I couldn't even imagine us ever being friends, again.

My mother opened the door, and the smile on her lips died instantly. "Where's Stephanie?"

I kissed her cheek, ignoring the pain whooshing through my heart. No one wanted it to be _her_ more than me.

"When you said you were bringing someone, I thought the two of you had patched things up—again, and that this time—"

"This is Kate, Mom." My eyes warned her to be gracious. "Kate this is my mother Angie," I introduced them, half expecting them to circle each other like potential boxing ring opponents.

"Hello?" She _was_ sizing Kate up, giving her the old Angie Morelli once over. Most people would want to run and hide, but Kate gave her a run for her money, never once breaking eye contact.

"Hi, it's so nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Morelli." Kate extended her hand. "Joe's told me so much about you.

What a _consummate liar._ I'd told her nothing.

"Nice to meet you too. I wish I could say the same regarding my son telling me about you." Her eyes narrowed. I could tell she wasn't sure what the hell was going on.

Well, she was about to be in for the shock of her life.

"You're not from the Burg?" she questioned Kate, as though that was totally unacceptable.

"No, I was born and raised in Boston."

"Are you _part_ Italian?"

"No full Irish."

My mother shook her head disgustedly, moving back in order to let us come all the way into the foyer.

Guiding Kate inside, we entered the living room. Kate sat down on the sofa with me next to her, and my mother took the chair to our left. Kate's hand latched onto mine. I could tell she was actually nervous. I held her hand for show, and because I knew all too well what it was like to face the Italian inquisition.

Mom's eyes were boring holes into Kate.

Grandma Bella chose that moment to make her entrance. Her wizened old eyes took everything in as always. She sat down on the chair directly facing Kate. Her sparse, grey, wiry eyebrows arched quizzically.

I got up to kiss her on the cheek. "Grandma Bella, this is Kate." I introduced her, trying to make my voice sound enthusiastic.

"Kate?" Grandma Bella scoffed.

"Yes. There's no easy way to break this to you, so I'm just going to come out and say it. Kate and I were married yesterday in Atlantic City. She's my _wife_." I let my left hand escape the pocket where I'd been hiding it.

I heard the double intake of deep, shocked breaths from both my mom and Bella.

"What were you _thinking, _Joseph?" My mom's tone said 'have-you-lost-your-ever-loving-mind'? Her hand was over her chest, and she'd turned ghost white.

"You _cannot _be married to _her_!" Grandma Bella protested, pointing toward Kate.

"We _are_ married," Kate assured her, showing off the gold band and a two-carat diamond engagement ring she'd kept hidden until then at my request.

We'd fought over that diamond, because the last thing I needed was for people to think I'd actually proposed to her with enough forethought to get a ring. Kate had convinced me it was all part of my cover. Throwing large sums of stolen drug money around carelessly was necessary. It was imperative people believe I'd changed so much that I'd even become reckless. We wanted them to see that Joe Morelli was going off the deep end; acting completely out of character. I'd given in on the first fight of my pseudo-married life, and Kate had treated herself to a big gaudy sparkler.

"Aren't you going to congratulate us?" I asked, hoping this would be easy for some stupid reason.

"NO!" Grandma Bella shouted. "SILENCE! I'm having a vision!"

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…" I muttered under my breath. Kate looked at me as if she thought she were in a loony bin.

"No Blasphemy, Joseph. Do you want me to put the eye on you?"

I swallowed hard. Having no idea if the damned eye was a bunch of baloney or not and knowing what already laid ahead of me, it didn't seem a good time to add an ancient Italian curse.

"Sorry Grandma."

"Where are my manners," my mother said. "Are you hungry or thirsty?"

"No," Kate and I said in unison.

"Silence!" Bella exclaimed again. "My vision is clear now. I see _you _married Joseph."

"Well, that's because I just _told _you I _am_."

"NOT TO HER!" Grandma Bella pointed at Kate again, as if she were a four-eyed monster.

Kate took a deep calming breath. "I can assure you, Joe and I _are_ married. We have the license, certificate and even some pictures! Would you like to see—?"

"No. Those papers prove nothing. You were not married in the eyes of the Catholic Church in front of God!" Grandma Bella held up a hand to stop Kate who was about to argue. "My Joseph is only married to _one _woman. She's been forever in his heart. Even when she broke it, he still kept her there. His heart has healed. T_hey_ are meant to be."

She closed her eyes and continued, "I see children—two girls and two boys. There are two with blue eyes and two with dark brown eyes. Those children are _not_ yours!" Grandma Bella opened her eyes and gave Kate a fiery look that would have singed most people's hair.

I wanted to smile triumphantly. My children—probably only two not four—would indeed have blue eyes. And no doubt a stubborn streak a mile long. They'd be mischievous handfuls and probably aggravate and drive us nuts. They'd also be the lights of our lives—Stephanie's and mine.

Kate was bristling next to me. "Grandma Bella," I warned, "you are being disrespectful to my _wife_."

"Nonsense!" she bellowed.

My mother thankfully interrupted. "Mother Bella, that's enough. Then she turned _her _wrath on me. "Why on earth did you run off and elope? You know I've always wanted to give you the wedding you deserved. I always thought it would be with—"

"Ma—" I jumped in, knowing I had to dispel her notion of Stephanie being the only woman who should ever have become my wife.

My mother's eyes were more defiant than I'd remembered ever seeing them.

"Stephanie—you were supposed to marry _her_," she finished her sentence and no interruption of mine was going to steer her from it. "I mean no disrespect to you Kate, but I _know _my son. He's been in love with Stephanie Plum his _entire_ life." She folded her arms in front of her chest.

"Things change," I insisted.

"Not _that _much they don't." I could see she was trying to wrap her mind around it and couldn't. Who could blame her? Neither could I.

"I can assure you, Mrs. Morelli, I love your son, and I will do everything I can to make him happy."

Grandma Bella snorted.

My mother shoulders drooped. "I believe you want to make him happy Kate. Marriage is never easy, and without deep love on _both _sides—"

"Maaaa," I gritted my teeth at her and crooked my neck toward Kate.

I saw her take a deep frustrated breath. Then slowly, she let it out.

"I guess we should be welcoming you to our family." My mother walked over to Kate, who stood, and the two women embraced tentatively.

"Joseph, will you help me in the kitchen," my mother asked.

"Sure, but I told you we're not hungry."

"I would like a _word_," she whispered steely. I rolled my eyes and followed her, leaving Kate to tangle with Grandma Bella alone, which I'm not too proud, to say made me smile.

My mother practically dragged me by my ear further into the kitchen. "Joseph Anthony Morelli, have you gone crazy?" She made the sign of the cross and folded her hands like a praying nun, shaking her head woefully toward heaven. It was nice to know my mother would always support me.

"No. What's with you? Kate's a beautiful, accomplished woman. I haven't lost my mind."

"Yes, you have. She isn't the _one_ for you. You _love_ Stephanie."

I sighed long and hard. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course, but I _know_ you. The "you" I know doesn't run off without a word to his family and marry some woman that isn't even a _little bit_ Italian or from the Burg."

"There's no law that says I have to marry an Italian from the Burg. Being a cop I'm pretty sure I would know if there were," I argued.

My mother's arms started flying. I knew better than to cross her much when that happened. I remembered seeing those arms go when I was very small. Usually they were directed at my father and brothers. As most kids do, I'd picked up some lifelong habits from my mother. So no one knew better than me what the madly gesturing arms meant.

And what is with all these horrible things I'm hearing about you?"

"Maaa." I tried to think of what I could say to reassure her, but there was nothing I could say. Whatever I came up with would _all _become lies to her after I was arrested.

"Joseph—_something_ is going on with you? Tell me you're not guilty of the things they're accusing you of? And why would you run off and _marry _a woman you hardly know? She's _nothing _like you."

She paced up and down in front of the counter. Then suddenly, she walked up to me and reached out to run her fingers over the top of my head. "What is it with your hair? Where are all your curls? Did _she_ do this to you? Don't you see? she's already trying to change who you are."

"Ma, I got a haircut for the wedding. Don't worry, the hair will grow back."

"Il cielo piange, questo è sbagliato!" she broke into Italian, which meant she was beside her self.

"The heavens are _not_ crying, and this isn't _wrong_!" Arguing with her words, I felt like a hypocrite, because inside my heart, I totally agreed.

You tell me what's going on or I _swear_ I will never make you manicotti again!"

I almost laughed. I could've cried. This could be truer than she knew. "Nothing is going on."

"Huh!" my mother retorted.

"You know I love you, and I would _never_ do anything to willfully hurt you, right?"

"Of course I do. I know you better than you know yourself. I'm your mother. You have a heart of gold. I just don't want to see it wasted on the wrong woman. She's not even from the Burg."

"Enough with the Burg already. S_he's Catholic,_" I offered an olive branch.

"_Irish_ _Catholic,_" my mother grumbled. "She has not ONE drop of Italian blood. Stephanie is _half _Italian. She comes from good people—_our _kind of people!"

"Kate comes from a huge family. She loves kids."

My mother hit the side of my head lightly. "She's _not _Stephanie! I might never have told you _or_ her, but _she's_ perfect for you. I wanted you to marry _her_ one day soon. I was hoping it would happen before you get too old to have my grandchildren. She loves you, and you _love_ her."

"I _married_ Kate, and I intend on making it last. You need to support me. It's important to me, Ma." I crossed my fingers behind my back superstitiously.

"Joseph, I may not have _the_ power of the eye, but I have a _mother's_ eyes. I don't believe you're in love with that redheaded Boston Cream puff! She's not you're type. You _won't_ be happy."

"Jeez Ma, thanks a bunch. I bring home the woman I married, and you refuse to accept her. You don't even _know_ her yet."

I gave her the look—the one I'd used my whole life to get her to soften up. She'd never been able to resist my pitiful, pleading expression. Her lips softened. Her eyes crinkled at the corners. Shaking her head and her finger at me at the same time, she gave in, just as I'd known she would.

"Fine. I'll inform your sisters and brothers, and we'll have a family dinner to celebrate," my mother offered grudgingly.

"You don't have to—"

"You _cheated_ me out of a wedding. Don't you even _dare_ think you're getting out of this dinner!"

"Okay." I threw my hands up in surrender.

She turned to go back out to the living room. I realized I might never get another chance to tell her how I truly felt about her.

My arms pulled her back toward me. Looking deeply into her eyes and memorizing her face, I hugged her to my chest, fighting the overwhelming emotions threatening to choke me.

"I love you, Ma, and making you proud of me has _always_ been really important to me. I know you've had a _rough_ life. I never wanted to do _anything_ that would bring you disgrace, pain or heartache."

"Joseph." She pulled away, and I saw tears in her eyes. It was all I could do not to cry too. "You've _always_ made me proud. You've brought my life much needed joy. You could _never_ disappoint me."

She kissed me on both my cheeks. She ruffled my hair, as she'd always done when I was young. "Come' avete potuto far tagliare il vostro riccioli! Proprio un peccato."

"Ma! Enough with the hair—it'll grow back!"

I followed her to the living room, trying to regain my composure. I knew soon my mother would be in disgrace and turmoil—_all_ because of me. If only I could tell her something to spare her the anguish.

Grandma Bella's face was pale. She inhaled deeply. I could see she was extremely relieved to have us return. I wasn't surprised. Spending time alone with Kate could definitely be trying.

"I need a nap. The visions are exhausting to me." She laid an arm across her forehead in a woe-is-me, typically Italian fashion. "I must go lie down."

Kate's face had a green tinge to it. Giving me a '_what-in-the-hell-was-that'_ look, I shrugged. We made a hasty retreat, promising to be there the day after tomorrow, promptly at six, for the big Morelli family wedding dinner.

Oh brother! Had my life gotten complicated? How in the hell was I going to pull the wool over my entire family? They'd be eyeing me like I'd gone mad. Every one of them knew I'd been hoping to marry Stephanie for years. If I _could _get them to believe this act, then I'd be home free with anyone else.

**Steph's POV**

I hit the damned button on the alarm clock, my head still twanging from the shrill sound. Forcing my foggy brain to wake up, I remembered why the hell I'd set the damn thing in the first place.

Joe and Kate had returned from their honey—

_Oh God! I couldn't even think it._

I _wouldn't_ think it. Forget it—it wasn't real. He'd called me yesterday before they'd left for home, warning me there would be an announcement in the next morning's paper.

Super. I could hardly wait. That's why I'd set the clock. My family had a subscription to the paper. They'd be seeing the announcement too. I didn't even want to imagine how they would handle the news.

I got up quickly, taking a curious look at myself in the mirror. My bruises were fading to light yellow, and my knife wounds only caused a twinge of pain every now and then.

What hurt most was my heart. Having to think of Joe as a married man did things to me I hadn't even imagined I could feel. Knowing it wasn't for real did not alleviate my fear. He was spending all that time with Kate, pretending to love her and showing her public displays of affection. I trusted him. Flashes of her kissing him on New Year's Eve kept haunting me. I didn't need my Spidey senses to tell me Kate wanted my man. She'd stop at nothing to get him.

I made my way downstairs, knowing the paper had been delivered just a couple minutes before. I was looking out my window and saw Kevin Scarpelli throw it toward the front door. He missed as usual, and the paper landed at the feet of our concrete Virgin Mary statue that stood like a sentinel behind a short brick divider. I heard the screen door squeak, as my father retrieved it. He yelled at Kevin to take pitching lessons. It was one more daily routine among my father's treasured rituals.

Glass shattered on the kitchen floor, and I heard my mother's unbelieving, "Oh My God! LOOK! It can't be true!"

I walked in just in time to hear my father exclaiming, "I'll kill him!"

Mentally preparing myself for the onslaught about to occur, I forced a phony smile.

"Good morning, Stephanie." My mother's voice was high-pitched and way too cheery to be coming from her lips. My dad looked up; his eyes wide as saucers. Grandma Mazur quickly ripped the paper, crumbled it and stuffed it down her bra. Her face blanched white.

"Morning everyone, what's going on?" I went to get the broom to sweep up the broken glass.

"No, Stephanie—_let_ me!" My mother said, grabbing the broom away. "I was just being clumsy. I mean you're still recovering dear. I don't want you to pop your stitches. I'll make a wonderful breakfast. Would you like your favorites—pancakes and waffles and French toast and bacon, _lots_ of crispy bacon just the way you love it. I was even thinking of making that chocolate torte you adore so much!"

My eyebrow arched comically. Everyone was already eating hot cereal. Mom hated making that dessert, because it took hours to prepare.

"Dad, who were you planning to kill? What's up? You're all looking like someone's already dead?" I observed with mock suspicion. I wanted to laugh, because poor Grandma Mazur was trying to keep the damn paper from falling out of her bra. Saggy, baggy, boobs did _not_ make a good hiding place.

"What's going on? You guys suck at lying," I said, wondering if that made me the best liar in the family?

_Shit._

After all my resolve never to lie again, here I was back at it like a pro!

"Uh—we're not lying. We're just talking, and Dad was thinking of taking you for a drive this morning. Wouldn't that be nice?" My mother offered in such a June Cleaver way, I thought the pod people had replaced her. It was either that or her tippling had reached an early morning record.

"A drive? Are you kidding me? There's a weather forecast for an early March blizzard. Why would Dad want to drive me around in that?"

All the subterfuge was apparently over, as my father said, "Stephanie, I think you need to sit down."

Mom gave him the Hungarian equivalency to the eye.

"I mean," he said softening his voice, "Sugar, it would be best if you take a seat."

My mother led me over to my chair. I felt like a fraud with all this damned pretending. Dad put his hand out to Grandma Mazur, who reluctantly forked over the hidden section of the paper. He gingerly unfolded it, looking dubiously at Grandma's chest.

"There's no easy way to do this." He handed me the wrinkled paper, opened to the picture of Joe and Kate. The caption was "Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Morelli Elope."

I was shocked by my immediate reaction. Seeing it for real brought every jagged emotion I'd been trying to stuff down bubbling to the surface. My lips quivered, as the tears fell like a freaking waterfall.

"I don't understand!" I _didn't_ understand at all! I hated it! Kate looked gorgeous. Joe, in an obviously new suit, was movie star handsome as always. A soft gulp escaped my throat. They made a _beautiful_ couple. I felt betrayal, which was weird, considering the bridegroom and I had just exchanged loving words less than twelve hours ago.

"I'm sorry, Jelly D. I know what a shock this is," Dad said, patting my shoulder.

My mother stood wringing her hands viciously around a dishtowel I was pretty sure was a replacement for Joe's neck.

Grandma Mazur walked toward me. I could tell she was equally shaken by the news. She plunked down onto a chair next to me, patting my knee comfortingly.

"I _know_ he _loves_ you. I'd swear by my new knee-high, white leather boots on it!" she said, totally stunned. "I guess all those rumors about him, must be true. What the heck happened to our Italian Stud? He sure turned into a dud!"

"People change Grandma." I blew my nose into the tissues my mother had handed me and let out a deep sigh. This was so much harder than I'd thought it would be. Not because I was pretending, but because seeing it plastered across the paper in black and white had made it all too real.

"Maybe I should go see him, and at least have a talk with him. _Kick his sorry ass to kingdom come_," Dad mumbled under his breath.

"No! It would only make things worse."

"How can they get any worse? People are talking behind his back all the time now! At first it was whispers and disbelief. Now with this behavior— what if it's all true?" dad said, shaking his head woefully.

"It's better to just let him be," I whimpered. The last thing Joe needed now was my family to come after him.

"How do we do that? He's a member of our family. He's the _love of your life_!" Mom's voice was uncharacteristically soft.

"I agree with your mother. There has to be an explanation," Dad insisted.

_Who knew they'd reject Joe's behavior so easily?_ I guess when you'd shared a dinner table with someone once a week for nearly four years, you knew him pretty well. It was obvious they were totally shocked by his erratic behavior. Loving him, as I knew they did, it was impossible to accept it without question.

"He's _like a son_! You wouldn't just let your son do this without getting some kind of explanation!" Mom wailed.

"Judging from the looks of that high maintenance woman he's hitched himself too, he's going to have a heck of a time keeping her in check! He thought you were a handful? He's going to be meeting himself coming and going with the likes of her! I'd never have pegged Joe for being a foolish idiot," Grandma Mazur shook her head sadly. "I should've kicked his ass and knocked some sense into him a long time ago."

"Dad—Mom—Grandma, I appreciate you wanting to do this for me, but he's _married._" My voice broke on the words. "Nothing can be done to change that."

I got up and made my way toward the stairs, truly longing to cry my eyes out. The fact Joe was willing to put his own life in grave danger to protect me never left my heart for a second.

I heard my mother emphatically state, "Something has to be done."

The phone started ringing off the hook. I raced up to my room and shut the door on what I knew would be non-stop, Burg-style gossiping for the rest of the day.

My cell phone was jam packed with calls too. I deleted every message but one.

"Stephanie! Oh, my God!" Mary Lou's shocked voice answered my call back.

"I know. I never saw it coming." _I hadn't_. I'd _heard_ it, from Joe, so that wasn't a total lie. Right?

"I'm so damned sorry! She's nothing but a two-bit hussy. She's not fit to clean your toilet!"

I snorted, which strangely sounded very much like a brokenhearted sob.

"Steph, don't cry. God, no—cry all you want. Why wouldn't you want to cry? You want me to come over?"

"No, Mare—I just need some time to be alone and figure out my life from here."

"Okay, if you're sure. Steph, there's another reason I called."

"What—don't tell me something more horrible happened than Joe marrying someone else—" I choked on the words and used my sad-as-hell voice. _I was way too good at this_.

"It is—in a way." She hesitated again. "I—we've been invited to the reception at his Mom's house, the day after tomorrow. Lenny, that idiot, told Tony we'd come. I'm _not_ going! How _dare_ he do this to you? It's a surprise for _them_. Yuck. I don't know why anyone would want to celebrate Joe's twisted mind. What the hell is wrong with him? Don't you just want to _kill _him?"

"Yes—no. I want him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted for him."

"Oh God, see how much you love him? You can't be serious? I want to turn him into sod and let my puppy relieve herself on him!"

I nearly lost it then, biting my hand to stop the laughter.

"I won't go. Don't worry, Stephanie. My loyalty is to you alone."

"No, Mary Lou—you should go. You can tell me what she wears, and how he—looks at her."

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes, I know it's really morbid curiosity or something, but I want to know. I need to know why he changed his feelings about getting married. What does she have that I don't—besides a larger bra size."

"Yeah, like those are _real_!" Mary Lou was such a champ, always in my corner.

"You've got to go for me, Mare. They're not going to invite me. I couldn't stand to see him with—"

"God, Steph, I don't know! Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. For some insane reason I need to know."

"I'll go, Steph, but it will only be to tell him what an ignorant ass he is and to punch his lights out. That I will gladly do for you!"

"Thanks, Mare—you're the best."

I wondered how black and blue Joe would be when Mary Lou got through with him.

I wished I could administer first aid. _Poor guy_. That evening was going to be a nightmare. I was grateful I wouldn't be invited. Knowing what a hellish time it would be for him was hard enough, without witnessing it in person.

**Joe's POV**

Standing in the living room in front of the gigantic floor to ceiling mirror of my "new" house, I gazed at my reflection. I blew out a deep uneasy breath and adjusted the strangling tie on my navy suit. Kate came up behind me wearing her wedding attire as well. I was glad to see she'd added a rhinestone pin to close up the deep cleavage.

Focusing on the two of us dressed in our fancy get ups just as we'd been three days ago in Atlantic City sent shivers up my spine. Thoughts of that day, and especially what nearly transpired later that night, haunted me. I dreaded confessing the whole truth to Stephanie—even more than the gangs and drug lords I'd be facing in prison.

She'd be hurt and angry and probably more than a little disgusted with my behavior. I could only hope she'd find it in her heart to understand somehow and to forgive me. I didn't know when I'd get a chance to tell her. It might not be for a _long _time. It would happen eventually though, because there would never be a lie or a half-truth between us again as long as I lived! How long that would actually be was a big question mark.

"Come on, _dear_—we don't want to keep your _wonderful_ family waiting!"

"Cut the crap, Kate!" I warned her. I was about ready to lose my temper again. It seemed she constantly relished rubbing my face in our unholy state of wedded affliction. I guess unrequited love made her friggin' crabby.

My mouth dropped open when I saw the long lines of cars bordering both sides of the street. _Holy crap!_ What had happened to the intimate family dinner?

"Shit!"

"You've got a big family," Kate remarked, not fully realizing what was ahead of us.

"Not _this _big. She's invited everyone I know."

The cars were familiar, and I knew exactly whom they belonged to—Big Dog, Carl Castanza, members of my homicide team, Michaels, Brooks, and God knows who else? I wanted to get back in the car and go home. To _my_ home—that little house on Slater Street I'd grown to love. I was missing it almost as much as I missed Stephanie. Would I ever get back to my real life?

"We need to get this over with, Joe."

"How in the hell am I supposed to pull this off? These people all heard the rumors, Kate! Why in the hell would they come to my wedding reception if they believed them at all?"

"I don't know. You need to hit the wine and whiskey hard tonight. We need you to be as cantankerous and obnoxious as you were on our wedding day."

"Good to know I was my usual, charming self."

"Yeah, that seems to be the only you there is!" she shot back.

"Look—" I swiped my shorter hair with my hand and found very little to swipe, "I didn't _intend_ to hurt you, but you overstepped your place. You knew we didn't marry because of my undying love for you. For you to put on that skimpy gown and throw yourself at me when I could barely think let alone function was manipulative, desperate and beneath you, Kate. At least, I hope to God it was!"

"You think I want to talk about your blatant rejection of me? I feel it every hellish day we're together. This is not the time or the place! You have family and friends waiting." Her voice was like freshly sharpened knife blades.

"Whatever—but let me warn you I will _not_ be drunk. Don't get any ideas later tonight you can pull that stunt on me again, because if you so much as lay a finger on me, I'll forget I'm a gentleman."

"Don't flatter yourself, Joe. I'm getting over my infatuation quickly. You're not an easy man to live with. I can see why you and Stephanie never stayed together long."

"You have _no_ idea what my relationship with her is so mind your own fucking business. We have a job to do, and we need to focus on this evening. Everything depends on it!"

You _don't_ have to tell what's at stake I'm well aware of it!" she retorted.

Whatever poor bastard ended up with her would have his hands full!

We entered the over-crowded house. It felt like my mother had decided to fit everyone I knew into a sardine can.

They shouted out, "Surprise."

Everyone was eager to shake our hands and hug us. Seeing the bewildered looks in their eyes and knowing they wanted to support me in spite of the skepticism they were fighting, made me feel like a jerk. I wondered if they questioned whether I was _even me_ anymore. Join the club. I'd gone to that place myself. I wasn't going to ever let it happen again—if I lived through _this_ nightmare.

I had to make every one of them stop questioning my complete capitulation to the dark side. I couldn't afford to retain anyone's loyalty.

This was going to be hell.

Accepting the glass of champagne offered to me, I asked for something stronger, and someone handed me a double whiskey instead. I was careful to make sure no one was looking when I poured them out and set the glasses down. I repeated the same strategy throughout the evening. My mother's poor philodendron plant was well on its way to a drunken coma. I'd have to get her a new plant. But I wasn't about to really get drunk and let any of my defenses down again.

My mother had asked me to make a speech and introduce Kate to the room. Boy, was she going to regret that request. I felt bad doing this to her. I'd be making this night up to her and everyone I knew for the rest of my life—if I lived.

"Wow everybody. This is soooo nice. Thanks for coming! This is my beautiful wife, Kate O'Grady—" I pretended to laugh at my own mistake. "I mean Morelli! Didn't I do good landing her? Can you believe a simple cop like me from the Burg would marry a high society beauty like Kate?"

Everyone clapped, and I gave Kate a perfunctory kiss on the cheek.

Hearing a few heckles from the crowd, I searched for the main source of them. Someone shouted out "What about Stephanie." The voice was lividly angry and chillingly familiar.

Mary Lou.

She made her way toward us, facing me dead on. Her eyes were flashing and accusing. "How _dare _you do this to my best friend! She deserved better, you _bastard!_ What in the hell were you thinking? Remember her Joe—the love of your life—_Stephanie?_"

She stepped forward and, with a huge loud wallop, slugged my face.

"That was for her!"

I reeled backward for a moment, shocked by the strength in that punch. I had to force myself not to show how much it hurt—both physically and emotionally.

"Stephanie, who?" I laughed disdainfully, flinging my arm around Kate. I pulled her tightly toward me. "Who needs Stephanie when I can bed this little fox every night?"

"You do—you ignorant horse's ass!" Mary Lou screamed. Lenny came up and grabbed Mary Lou around the waist, pulling her away. She was kicking and screaming out more expletives than a drunken sailor, obviously wanting to stick it to me in whatever way she could. Lenny shook his head at me silently as he carted his wife away.

Turning back toward the shocked spectators, I smiled as if nothing had happened. I ran my fingers down Kate's neck to the broach holding in her cleavage and unclasped it, displaying the goods for all to see.

"Look what I've got! Isn't she gorgeous? You're hot for me aren't you baby!"

Kate's eyes widened, and she blushed furiously.

"You've got everything I need. I buried my face in her neck, pretending to kiss her. Lifting my head and licking my "drunken" lips, I teetered into Kate and clawed at her hair with my fingers.

My mother had clearly witnessed enough and ushered everyone into the dining room where a huge buffet was all set up. You'd think she'd been cooking for weeks. There was a wedding cake on a table in the corner and endless champagne flowing.

My brother Tony got up to make a toast. "To our little brother, whom we love no matter what shit he's gotten himself into! You've become the talk of the town, and a true Morelli man after all!"

Tony's eyes perused Kate. "To his ravishing bride, Kate—who would have thought you'd be the one to finally turn my brother's head away from that Plum girl? It's a good thing you did. _She never_ deserved you baby brother."

I wanted to deck Tony. I was beyond pissed! How dare he slander Stephanie to me? I had to force myself to remain silent. There was nothing I could say or do to shut Tony's flapping mouth.

Paulie, not to be outdone, and more than a little hammered added his own salute.

"To the perfect Morelli man and his unexpected, but totally delectable, bride! Hey, I just realized—she's probably expecting, isn't she? That's the reason for the quickie wedding."

My mother came up and knocked him in the head. _Thanks mom_.

Kate was pulled into a throng of well-wishers, and I was happy she was no longer glued to my side. My own friends were coming up to me with questions popping in their eyes.

"Joe, what's going on, man? Talk to me," Big Dog whispered. "I don't understand what's up with you! You were always supposed to marry, Steph."

I snorted. "That cheating bitch? She's got Manoso! What does she want with me? She treated me like dog shit! Who needs her? She's just a wishy-washy girl. I've got a _real _woman now! My life is right on track."

Big Dog's eyes looked like they wanted to chew me up and spit me out. "Joe, for God's sake, what the hell has gotten into you? You represent the TPD, and this behavior of yours is disgusting if you did the things they're saying you did! If that investigation turns up evidence against you, you're going to need bodyguards, and I'll be in line with the rest of the guys ready to beat the shit out of you. Snap the hell out of whatever this is, before it's too damned late!"

Costanza was right behind him. "Yeah Joe—come on! What the hell is the matter with you? This isn't you. We're your brothers! You're supposed to be loyal to us." He hit me on the back of the head pretty damned hard for a lifelong friend.

"You two aren't my _brothers_. Where the hell is Eddie? He's supposed to be my friend. Why isn't he here?

"I'm here, Joe, but not because I want to be. What you did to Stephanie was unforgivable!"

I moved around Eddie, forcing him to turn away from Carl and Big Dog. I needed to see if Eddie had come along to help me out. I figured by now, with the bits and pieces he'd heard, he was on to me, and willing to play right into my hands. He raised his brow, as if to ask what next? I gave him a slight nod back.

"You did Stephanie wrong, and you need to admit it!" Eddie challenged me again.

I laughed mirthlessly. "Now that's rich! _I did her wrong_? What about _all_ the shit she pulled on me? You all knew—my so-called, precinct brothers!" I spit the words out like I'd tasted bitter quinine. "You knew about her fling with Manoso _all _along, and not _one_ of you told me. So spare me your lectures. Loyalty—my ass!"

"Joe, you're not yourself." Big Dog tried to touch my arm, and I jerked it back.

"Who the hell doesn't think this is the _real_ me? Raise your hands!" I shouted it out loud enough to paralyze the party and bring myself undivided attention. Gazing over every one of the familiar faces, I saw no one raised a hand.

_Surprise_

Good. This was my cue to take it all the way home.

I let my eyes roll back in my head. Raising my glass, I sloshed the liquid, splashing it every which way into the air so the whiskey sprayed out and hit innocent bystanders in the face.

"Well, cheers to you _freaking_ hypocrites! You all believe the worst of me. You've been _waiting _for it to happen. Right?"

I searched the crowed for my blood brothers. "Even you, Tony—and you, Paulie" And then I pointed at Cathy and Mary too. "You're all just so damned jealous I have that big, white house now, and all those snazzy cars! I'm the _chosen one_ who got Aunt Rose's house too. It all comes so easily to me. I don't even have to work for it. You're all so fucking green with envy you can't _stand_ it. You know I'm the _favorite _son! You hate me for it! You've all hated me! Well so what—who cares? I don't need you. I don't need any _stinking_ friends who believe the worst of me! You have no proof I did any of it, and you'll never get any either."

My mother was mortified and motioned for me to shut up. "Joseph, it's time for you and St—Kate to cut the cake!"

She herded me out of the living room, hissing expletives in Italian and sent me straight into the corner where Kate suddenly appeared behind the cake.

"Hi darling. Having a good time?" she asked in that oh-so-sarcastic tone of hers before planting a kiss firmly on my closed lips. I grabbed her and planted a deeper one on her chin. I was getting good at twisting her away from curious onlookers and making it seem like we could barely come up for air. The cameras flashed.

_Shit!_

Pictures.

Steph would see them no doubt. I was already going to have to get on my knees for saying the horrible things I'd said about her. I'd hated doing it! My skin was crawling with the deception.

We cut the cake, and in keeping with my drunken as skunk act, I smashed it into Kate's face, making a mess. She was livid. Her green eyes flashed an enraged warning. The cake that hit my face in return was aimed and pushed at me with such force I nearly toppled over.

I licked my lips and noticed it was pretty damned good cake. Steph would have loved it. I wanted to cry. Lying to my family sucked. I wondered if anyone would ever forgive me for any of this? Would I ever have the same place in my mother's heart after betraying her this way?

My mother shoved wet washcloths at us, so we could wipe the crumbs and icing away.

Kate's green eyes reminded me of a fire-breathing dragon I'd once seen in a movie when I was young. I felt familiar twinges of fear. She was furious. Taking me by surprise, she grabbed and kissed me. My mouth gaped open in surprise, allowing her tongue entrance. Shit! Mini strobe-like flashes from everyone's cameras captured the moment in quick succession.

Controlling my fury, I pushed her away a little roughly. I was determined to stop her before any more cameras went off. But it was way too late. The entire Burg would be passing the pictures around by tomorrow, making sure Stephanie got a good hard look.

I wished I could be somewhere alone with her just to kiss her and tell her how much I was missing her. Those melancholy thoughts had to stop—I had a job to do.

Grandma Bella had been eyeing us all evening and made her way over to my side.

"Shame, on you, Joseph! This marriage is a sham. I knew it. I had a vision. You should _not_ be playing with the sacred sacrament of marriage. God does not look kindly on that."

"Not _now _Grandma Bella," my eyes flashed warning. Shit! In two seconds she would undo everything we'd set out to accomplish.

"When then, Joseph?"

"Later!" My jaw hardened, and I used my best intimidating cop's face, although I doubted very much she'd ever be scared of anything! I bent to her ear and whispered, "I love you, and nothing I'm about to do is real. Trust me."

She nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Get out of our way, you crazy old lady!" I said it loudly and gruffly enough to grab the attention of the crowd.

"Thanks, Mom, for the party, and all of you for coming—even if you are a bunch of two faced, ready-to-stab-me-in-the-back losers! You'll have to come to _our_ new place, and we'll throw _you_ a party you'll never forget! We'll show you how it's done won't we baby?"

My three-sheets-to-the-wind act had to be believable, so I grazed a lusty gaze over Kate's body. She nodded silently, forcing a smile. "That's right! Kate and I will show you a good, good time!" I slapped her on the ass, and then staggered a bit, grabbing her waist for balance. She grasped my hand and twisted it painfully. Grinding her teeth, she ordered me to move.

Mom stopped me at the door in the foyer. Her back was to the throng of horrified on-lookers. "Remember when I said to you there would never be a day I would not be proud of you?"

I nodded, as guilt consumed me.

"Well, the _day _has come, Joseph! I'm _so_ ashamed to be your mother!" Her eyes sliced through me.

"I'm so sorry, Mrs. Morelli. Joe's had very little to eat and _way _too much to drink," Kate tried to soften the blow.

"For the first time in your life, I've see your father in you, Joseph." My mother's hardened gaze and the pain I saw filling her eyes made me want to blurt out the truth in front of everyone. I couldn't. I'd done everything I'd set out to do. _God!_ I was beginning to hate myself all over again.

I couldn't do it. I had to say something to my mother. As I did with Grandma Bella, I bent to her ear and, while laughing derisively, I managed to whisper. "It's me, Mom. I'm here. Trust me—I love you. It's important. I swear! You _need_ to cry."

I could see her eyes registering my words. She hesitated for a moment, and then her lips quivered.

I touched her face. "Aren't you proud, Ma. Roscoe Morelli is alive and well in your favorite son."

I saw I'd upset everyone. Mom was crying; my sisters were wringing their hands, and my brothers were looking at me like they'd like to take me outside and knock some sense into me.

The rest of the crowd was equally silent and reeling in shock.

Mission Accomplished.

_Shit!_

Kate and I drove home in tomblike silence. She slammed the car door and stomped into the house. Grabbing Bob, I took him for a long walk. We ended up at the park, and I sat down on the bench where I'd found Stephanie nearly frozen. It seemed like years ago.

Opening the cell phone, I made the call.

"Bad night, Morelli?" Steph's comforting voice calmed me some.

"Worst ever."

"You okay?"

"No. I feel like I'm _really _losing myself," I confessed. "That's why I had to call and hear your voice."

"Joe, you're you. You'll _always_ be you. That's what I love most. You're the best man I know. No one has guts like you. No one has nuts and balls like you either!" She joked.

I chuckled.

"God! What would I do without you, Cupcake?"

"You'd be a freaking mess!"

"I would for sure."

"Glad you finally realize it."

"Steph, I said horrible things to _everyone_ tonight. I hated it."

"I know."

"The things I said about you were the _worst."_

"What things?"

"Please don't ask."

"Was there an undercurrent in anything you said that you really _do _feel toward me?

"Mary Lou called you, didn't she?"

"Yeah." Her voice broke.

"I didn't mean _one_ word."

"I know, but everyone heard you say them." I heard the accusation in her voice.

"I'm so sorry, Cupcake. You are the only woman for me. You're perfect. You know me, and exactly what I need."

"Are you sure you didn't mean them, Joe?"

"Positively one hundred percent. All of that is in the past! I swear."

"You _will_ make it up to me."

"I wish I could right now."

"You're going to have to work _really_ hard to get my forgiveness."

"I'm willing to become your slave if I have to."

"You'll clean house and wash the cars and make me peanut butter sandwiches from _my_ jar whenever I want?"

"Your jar?"

"Do you want my forgiveness or not, Morelli?"

"Yeah, I guess if that's all I have to do as far as slavery goes, I can handle that—_your_ jar and all."

"Oh, we haven't even touched the surface of what you'll have to do to fix this."

"I'd love to touch the surface of whatever it takes to make it right." I teased her, smiling to myself.

"I'm holding you to it."

"You don't know how much I want to hold you. Fuck, Stephanie—what are we going to do when I go to jail, and we can't even _talk_ anymore."

"I can't even give that a thought yet," she admitted.

"Me either."

"I did something _really_ unprofessional tonight," I had to confess to someone. Guilt was nagging at me.

"What do you mean?"

"I blew my cover."

"What? How?"

"I couldn't let my mother think the worst. She said I reminded her of my father. It hurt too much, Steph."

"What did you tell her?"

"Not much. Just that it was me, and to trust me, and that I loved her."

"I understand. It must have been hell for you."

"It was. Everyone I knew was there, and I think if there weren't so many cops there, Mary Lou would have killed me."

"She's a good friend."

"Yeah, she packs quite a punch. There's more Steph. Grandma Bella was on to us. She almost blew everything."

"Don't tell me she had a vision."

"Yeah, she knew the marriage was a sham. I had to shut her up, so I told her almost the same thing I told my mom. This can't get out. I may have blown _everything."_

"No, Joe—they'll never betray you. They'll do what you asked."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because they trust you and love you. I know something about that. Have faith. They'll never give you away."

"You love me." I found a smile again.

"Yeah, but don't make a big deal out of it."

"It's a very big deal."

"You bet your ass it is!" she chuckled.

"I'm not sure what to do now. Do I tell Mom and Grandma Bella more?"

"No. Just let it be. You gave them something to hold on to, and they know now there is more going on."

I blew out the night's frustration. Talking to Steph was healing me and made me feel like whatever happened in the future wasn't going to be the end of the world.

"Do you think everyone else was convinced you've changed?" she asked curiously.

"Oh yeah. They _all_ think I'm scum now."

"I've been telling you that for years!" she teased.

"Tomorrow?" I asked, knowing we had to limit the minutes. I needed to hear that beautiful voice for as long and as often as I could.

"Tomorrow," She echoed promisingly.

As time passed, there was so much buzzing in the Burg about me—my questionable character, my marriage to Kate, my heartless betrayal of Stephanie—I got sick to death of hearing all of it. The only thing that kept me sane was the phone calls with Steph.

Kate and I settled into a daily routine. We'd walk Bob together early in the morning, holding hands like lovers. As soon as we were out of the public eye however, I'd drop her hand like a hot coal. I'd go to work. I was under investigation, but no concrete evidence had surfaced. Until it did, I had to keep on with the usual routine. I investigated murders like always. People everywhere were staring at me and whispering behind my back constantly, so the rumor mill was a great success. Would anyone expect less in the Burg?

What I wasn't prepared for is that word of me and my suspected shadiness was reaching the national news. How the hell that happened I didn't know.

It was really uncomfortable to be around _any _of my family. They tried to act like I was the same old Joe, but no one fooled me. They were suspicious, angry and completely baffled as was everyone else. My mother and Grandma Bella never said a word. I caught their questioning eyes, but I could see they were committed to doing as I asked. _God bless them!_

I longed to see Stephanie, but I didn't want to run into her at all if I was with Kate. That would have been too humiliating for her. We talked as often as we could. I warned her in advance not to show up in places where I knew Kate and I were going to be. I'd sent her two more untraceable, prepaid phones. We cherished that time more than anything. We'd have gone nuts without that.

Kate and I would periodically eat at Pino's, in order for people to see the "deeply in love" newlyweds. We'd take Bob for nightly walks. At least if it was dark, there was no hand holding.

Things were every bit as tense and uncomfortable between us. It sucked because we needed to be together so much. I had no idea how to fix it, and I wasn't sure I could take a chance on trying. It was weird. At times I'd see shades of the woman I'd first met. She took care of the house and tried to make it more home-like. Occasionally, I'd see her talking on the phone to a member of her family, and her face would noticeably soften as she smiled or laughed at something being said.

I wondered if being in the FBI had changed her. I realized firsthand how easy it was to lose yourself when you're always pretending to be something and someone you're not. It was kind of sad. She wasn't spoiled underneath. I sensed she had a good heart in there somewhere.

But you'd never know it by the way things were going for us.

She'd tell me she was going to cook, and I'd purposefully forget and bring home take- out. She'd glare and eat her home-cooked meal. I'd eat the take-out food and stare daggers right back at her. Bob would fluctuate between the junk I brought home and her healthy-as-hell, home-cooked stuff. If he could have, he'd probably have eaten both.

Bob had NOT ingratiated himself to her at all. He'd eaten two thongs and one tennis shoe, and we suspected he'd either ingested or buried one of her favorite earrings. Bob had outdone himself when the emerald green negligee turned into a bunch of hole-filled, chewed-up bits of fabric. _I loved that dog!_

They tolerated each other the same way she and I did. _Like father like dog_. I'd told Stephanie about most of it, leaving out the green silk rags story. I was worried she'd wonder why Kate even had a skimpy nightgown around me.

I'd heard Ranger's men would be heading to prison soon. They were supposed to be there well before I got there, so as not to arouse suspicion. I hadn't told Stephanie this part of the plan. To be honest, I wasn't sure why. Was it because she loved those "big teddy bears"—as she called them—so much, and it would upset her to no end to see them in danger too? Or was it because she would be indebted to Ranger for his protection of _me_?

Knowing all too well that she took her debts to him a little too literally, I preferred to keep this tidbit to myself. Ranger had felt no problem in the past on collecting his supposed debts in full. I figured eventually she'd put two and two together, because with her spidey sense and sharp intuitive mind, she wouldn't take long to get to the truth. I'd probably, be in trouble either way. Would she worry about me less—or them more? I made the decision to let it go for now.

I was counting the days to the end of this farce and praying I'd come home to Stephanie someday.

**Steph's POV**

I'd just left the Tasty Pastry after grabbing some of my favorite Boston Creams. Unfortunately, I'd gone to take the first bite when the idea that Boston was where Kate had come from had taken my appetite away instantly.

_Speak of the devil._

She and the _original _Mrs. Morelli—Joe's mom—were headed straight toward me.

_Shit!_

I tried to avert my eyes and realized how silly it would look. I forced myself to meet them head on.

I figured Angie Morelli was probably thrilled to death to have a new daughter-in-law to parade around town. I'm sure she breathed many sighs of relief it wasn't me.

"Stephanie!" Angie smiled so sweetly at me I nearly dropped the bag of donuts. I stopped dead.

"Hi," I nodded to them both.

Kate looked simply gorgeous. She was wearing a cowl necked, knitted sweater with a tight black leather pencil skirt and matching leather boots. I could hardly take my eyes off her left hand. Seeing those _rings_ I knew Joe had slid on her finger, nearly took my composure away. I wanted to cry again.

"Stephanie, it's so good to see you dear? How are you?"

"I'm fine." I knew my eyes betrayed me, and I looked anything but fine.

"You know what, Kate? Would you mind if I had a word alone with Stephanie? It's been ages, and we need to catch up. Maybe you could go in and get us a table."

"Sure," Kate said. She gave me a once over before turning away and walking into the restaurant.

"Stephanie, how are you really?" Angie Morelli's hand caressed my cheek.

Her solicitous tone touched me. I knew she was going through hell about not knowing for sure what was going on with Joe, and I felt horrible for her.

Tears filled my eyes.

"Oh my God, Stephanie! I never knew this was coming. Joe never said one word to us. I can't believe he turned his back on his family this way. And on _you, d_ear girl! I have no idea what happened. I've wanted you and Joseph to be married ever since he started bringing you home to us."

My shocked reaction made her smile a little regretfully.

"I know. You and I got off to a rocky start. In my defense, you were hunting my son down as though he was a deer in headlights! But that's ancient history."

Her gaze grew serious. "I've seen how he looks at you, and how you've looked at him for years now. I know you love him, and you're so good for him. That _witch_ in there is trouble!" Angie pointed toward the bistro. "She's _changing_ my Joseph. He doesn't realize how horrible she is for him. Have you seen the terrible haircut he got?"

"I don't think anyone could change who Joe is," I remarked carefully.

"Stephanie, do you still love my son?"

I nodded silently. I couldn't lie about that—not to her.

"Don't you give up on him. Whatever is happening, he'll come to his senses! I know Morelli's don't usually divorce, but you mark my words—_this _marriage is headed for disaster. It _won't_ last. I hope and pray it doesn't. You are my son's _perfect_ fit. He will see that again someday soon. I have faith in my Joseph. You need to have it too."

She patted my cheek again and turned to go into the building to have lunch with her daughter-in-law.

Before I could gather my wits from the encounter with Mrs. Morelli, the new Mrs. M came rushing out of the side exit door near the restrooms. She must have excused herself and made a beeline for me. _Great! Could my life get any better?_

She walked over to me, pushing her hair back and blatantly showing off that flashy diamond on her finger.

"So, Stephanie—how's the _single_ life?"

"Probably about as good as married life is for you," I answered pointedly.

"Well I _doubt _that. You'll have to ask Joe about our wedding night sometime when you see him. It was quite an evening." Her eyes sized me up, as if I was a pile of bird droppings under her shoe.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked. The hairs on my back stood up, and I made a fist with my free hand.

"I bet whatever you're thinking is pretty much what I mean."

"You're lying."

"Am I? You know better than anyone the sexual appetite Joe has. Do you _really_ think he could resist what I had to offer? We're together _constantly_. What do you think happens between a man and a woman as passionate as we are?"

Doubts filled me. _God! It couldn't be true_.

"_Nothing_ happened. You're just trying to come between us."

"I assure you Joe won't be able to tell you _nothing _happened."

"You're in love with him. You'd say _anything_ to get me out of the way."

"Am I? Would I? _Ask_ him Stephanie! Sometime when you're together again, you look into his eyes. There you'll see the truth."

She turned and walked away.

Resisting the urge to jump her and wrestle her to the ground, I pulled myself together and assured myself everything she'd said was nonsense. It'd been a tangle of filthy lies! Joe would _never _betray me like that! Not now—not after everything we'd been through. I knew he'd never so much as lay a _finger_ on her. The moment we were together again, I'd call Kate's bluff! I'd ask him, and I knew I'd see the truth in his loving eyes.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

No profit. Not my characters

Carol, Thanks for all you do. Especially for taking time from your vacation, to be my sounding board, amazing Beta and more! You are a sweet friend!

Thanks everyone for the continued support and interest in this story. Your reviews and thoughts are much appreciated.

**Steph's POV**

Days were passing fast. Joe and I knew the time for us to talk on the phones was running out. We never said anything more about it, because neither of us wanted to face what was inevitable.

Tears threatened, when I so much as began to picture him being handcuffed and led away to prison. It was almost impossible to imagine the free spirited man I loved so much behind iron bars. Those hardened, black-hearted criminals would stop at nothing to stick it to a crooked cop. My stomach churned incessantly, and my throat closed tighter every time I gave it thought.

What if I never saw him again? What if the last time we'd been together was _it _for us?

I couldn't even imagine my life without that stubborn, dry humored, hot tempered, deeply passionate, thoroughly scrumptious, Italian original, who made my blood boil and my whole body tingle in fevered anticipation of his touch. Loving him now, without hesitation or doubt, was both fantastic and excruciating. Fantastic, because it felt so freeing to finally be able to tell and show him everything I was feeling inside. For the first time in my life I'd held nothing of myself back. Excruciating, because not being able to be near him and do so flesh to flesh was pure torture.

I had to force myself to go back to skip tracing in order to occupy my mind with something other than Joe-wishing.

Walking into the bond's office, I fortified myself for what I knew I would be a trying encounter with my coworkers and weirdo boss. I blew out a deep breath before opening the door. As soon as the bell jingled, Connie looked up from her desk with an ear-to-ear grin. She looked like the Jersey version of Minnie Mouse with her white puff sleeved shirt, red polka dot skirt, red bowed hair band, around a big puffy hairdo and those big hoop earrings of hers.

"Well aren't you a sight for some sore eyes! How are you feeling, Hon? I can hardly see the bruises. What about the stab wounds— are they healing up good too?" she asked, putting her nail file aside to look me over, while popping a fresh piece of chewing gum into her mouth.

"I'm doing okay," I assured her.

"Are you really? That's a little hard to believe after all that stuff with Joe." She shook her head pityingly. The last thing I needed was anyone feeling sorry for me. I was doing a pretty good job of that all by myself.

"I'm fine. Joe made his choice. He's going to have to live with _IT_." I put a big emphasis on the word "It", because I wasn't sure Kate was anything but an "it" after my last confrontation with her.

I'd wanted to ask Joe about her accusations during one of our calls, but I'd decided I needed to see his face when I did so. I wanted him to tell eye-to-eye that he'd never strayed from me for a second. If he had, I'd have to kill him. It would be a slow torturous kind of death. He'd have to put me at the head of his list of potential enemies. The maniacs in prison would be waiting in line behind me.

My gut told me Kate wasn't being totally deceitful. I fought the niggling worry. I had nothing to base the feeling upon, since practically everything that came out of her mouth was a lie. She _had_ to be lying through her teeth. Joe would NEVER do that to me. I don't know why I'd doubted him for a second. He'd been nothing but loving and attentive and so forthcoming about his deepest feelings for me.

When he'd said I'd always be home to him and had told me why, my heart had melted into pink marshmallow fluff. It was all I could do not to crawl through the phone lines and bring him home to me right then and there.

God, I hoped it wouldn't be long before that happened for real.

Lula came prancing in wearing her usual knock your eyes out outfit. Today it was a pair of neon green stretch pants with a zebra print leotard top. Her cleavage exposure made the Grand Canyon seem shallow. To say it left little to the imagination was a vast understatement, and to top it all off she wore a shiny gold belt and buckle embellished with a huge rhinestone kitten, which squeezed her ample waist and had her love handles nearly stretching the leotard to its limit. I wonder who'd given her that belt and when? Hmmm.

"Girl, you're back! Finally! It's about damn time. I was ready to call Joyce Barnhardt to come and help me with them skips Connie gave me yesterday. Are you ready to roll? Lula's hungry, and you and I have some serious talking to do. My Gawd—Officer Hottie has done lost his mind! We need to find a way to make him pay for his heartless stupidity. I've got a bunch of suggestions for that I'll tell you all about it on the way to McDonald's. Are you up to driving or should we take my baby?"

She finally stopped for a breath. Just as I was about to open my mouth to respond, Vinnie's door cracked open.

"What the shit! I thought you retired and took a trip to the Bahamas. Thank you very much for deciding to show up for a goddamned change. What do you two think this place is a coffee klatch? Get your asses out there and don't come back until you have some FTA receipts!"

"I'm feeling fine, Vinnie. Thanks for asking if the doctor said I could come back to work yet."

"Oh yeah—right. You spent some time in the hospital. So what did the damned doctor say? Can you work or not, because if you can't, I'm going to have to find someone who can!"

"Are you firing me, Vinnie?"

"Uh—well—oh hell—NO! Just get your tushies out there and make it happen! Or I will have to take drastic measures—I'm telling you." He pushed his over-greased hair off his forehead impatiently.

"How are things going with Joyce and the duck? Do I need to call your wife and ask her?"

"Jeez, NO! That's not funny! Damn! Morelli getting married must be what's making you bitchier than usual if that's even possible. Maybe if you hadn't been so busy screwing around with Ranger, it would have been _you_ he finally married."

His face turned almost gleeful. "Doesn't' matter though. Word on the street is he's going to be setting up house in the pokey really soon. So that hot wife of his is going to have to cool her heels, or maybe she'll hook up with Ranger again. Those two had something hot and heavy going on for _quite_ a while."

He must have seen the look of surprise in my eye for he continued right on babbling. "I wonder if her new husband knows _all_ about that. Pretty funny how those two idiots both chose the same two women to hook up with. Though it's a mystery to me what either of them saw in you!"

My mouth fell open.

"You didn't know!" He was over-the-moon with giddiness. "Yeah, for over two years or more I think. He made some vague introduction, and mentioned she was from Boston. I finally figured out what was making him take so many trips there. I mean the woman has sex oozing from her pores."

I swallowed back the lump in my throat as Vinnie continued running off at the mouth.

"They were in a bar on State Street, sitting in a booth all cozy like. I met them there to give Ranger a skip check. There was no mistaking what they were going to be doing later that night—not the way they were looking at each other. I'm surprised they didn't do it right there in the booth."

Picturing Ranger with Kate was almost impossible to imagine. How could I not have known this? When was he doing all the commuting? Was he seeing her while we were together? He'd taken lots of trips to Boston? Was it for more than his security business?

"He was taking some time off too, for some exotic trip to the Caribbean," Vinnie continued smugly. "Pretty ironic, if you ask me, that Morelli ends up marrying Ranger's leftovers, and now if you and Ranger hookup again, he'll probably end up with Morelli's."

My hand itched to shut his mouth for him.

"Of course if _she_ goes after him while Morelli's in prison, you won't have a flying fuck of a chance! That woman makes you look like a sorry teenybopper with a flat chest."

With that last slimy remark, Vinnie shut his door and went back to whatever he did best, which was still a mystery to all of us.

"Steph, are you okay?" Connie asked me, as this revelation began to sink in.

Ranger had conducted a relationship with Kate/Meghan? When? Could it really have been for over two years? What two years? Ranger _knew_ her biblically? Did Joe know? Why hadn't he told me?

"I need to make a phone call. I'm going to meet up with you in a bit. Give me the first address, and I'll be there in a half hour," I instructed Lula.

"But—"

Before Lula she could get another word in, I left the Bonds office and headed straight for my car. Joe had told me to always talk in open spaces in case our homes our cars were being bugged. We couldn't take the risk of anyone getting wind of our conversations.

I didn't know where to go. It was nine in the morning. But I had to call him right then. My curiosity couldn't wait. I found myself at the park—_our _park. Sitting on the bench, I took in my surroundings. It was deserted except for a few early morning joggers and a couple of mothers pushing strollers.

Funny how just sitting on our bench made me feel his presence.

"Hi." Joe sounded surprised as he answered my call. He told me to wait until he could get outside. I tapped my foot on the ground impatiently while waiting until he gave me clearance to talk.

"Okay, I'm here Cupcake. What's wrong? You never call during the day?"

Without wasting time, I cut to the chase. "Did you know Ranger knows Kate?"

I heard a deep intake of breath.

"Yes."

"Did you know he had a long term affair with her?"

"I knew they'd hooked up. I had no idea when or for how long."

"My God, Joe, why didn't you tell me?"

"Why does it matter?" His voice had suddenly hardened. I could picture him gazing at his shoes.

"It doesn't. I mean what does he have to do with her doing _this_ job? Have they worked together before?"

"I believe they have. Ranger works with the FBI from time to time."

"And is _this_ one of those times?"

"Stephanie—I've told you more than I should have already about this whole damned thing."

"What the hell does that mean? Is he involved in this or not?"

"I don't really understand why it's so important? Are you jealous that he's been with Kate?"

"Don't be ridiculous! Of course I'm not jealous it's just—weird. Don't you think? The fact that you've ended up married to his ex—_whatever_ she was to him."

"You _are_ jealous." His voice was low and unnervingly quiet.

"I said I wasn't!"

"Yeah, well I know you, and I know better." He was getting angry. I could tell by his tone he was hurt as well as the way his voice had dropped on the last word.

"I shouldn't have called. Go back to work. We can hash this out later."

"Right. Later." He hung up on me.

Shit!

The last thing I wanted was tension between us. He would be going away soon, and I wanted every moment between us to be nothing but loving. I wanted him to feel how much he meant to me—by our snappy sarcastic bantering and in those rare moments when we shared our unabashed, deeply honest feelings. Joe was my life. Without him I'd be feeling so lonely and so empty. I didn't think I'd feel alive without him.

Ranger could still be having his affair with Kate. I didn't give a hill of beans if they were still going at it. Hell, I hoped they were if it would keep her out of Joe's hair! We needed to straighten this out tonight, because I didn't want to put Joe under any more pain or stress. He'd gone through enough already, and I knew he was only heading for more in prison.

Sadly, I waited all night for my prepaid cell to ring, but it never did. I wanted to call him, but I was afraid he'd be as cold and accusing as earlier. For the first night since we'd gotten the phones, we made no connection. I got a grim taste of what the future held when he was imprisoned and I knew being away from him would feel like my life had become a cold dark, grey cell of emptiness too.

The next day was another of skip tracing with Lula. The location of our first case sent chills up my spine. The last known residence of our FTA was on the outskirts of the most shady side of town, not far from where I'd had my near miss with the Slayers before Sally Sweet, God bless him, had barreled to my rescue with that magic school bus of his! It seemed everywhere I went was a reminder of all the close calls I'd had to meeting my maker. Bounty hunting was definitely getting old.

Lula was her usual sparkly self. She'd come up with about thirty ways to stick it to Joe on the way to the job. I didn't have the heart to join in the fun. I just wanted her to shut up. But the more I denied I wanted to hurt Joe in any way, the more determined she was to find the perfect punishment to fit his crime of slime, as she referred to it repeatedly.

I trained myself to take deep relaxing breaths. I was going to be doing a lot of that in the weeks to come. As more evidence of Joe's supposed treason came to light, no doubt Lula was going to drive me nuts.

We got out of the car. I had my vest, gun, cuffs and pepper spray. I made my way to the front door, signaling Lula to take the back. This guy could be armed. His name was Sylvester Mantoni, and he was arrested for theft. He'd been shit-faced drunk and hadn't known what time it was. He'd claimed he'd been worried his wife would be in need of a ride home from the graveyard shift of a nursing home where she worked.

He'd stopped into the first building he could find, which happened to have been his local police precinct— Joe's precinct. Getting up on a chair, he'd taken the clock right off the wall. The poor guy had removed his belt and tried strapping the clock to his arm like a wristwatch. Needless to say, he'd been easily caught while also trying to steal an idling police car. According to the file, he'd said he was just borrowing it to pick up his wife.

He probably wasn't armed, but could still present a dangerous threat given the thought process he'd used while under the influence.

I knocked on the door. The TV was blaring, and I could see someone inside. Waiting, I hit the doorbell. Finally the door swung open, and the kindliest sixty-something man you could ever imagine greeted me. He stood about five foot eight, had silvery hair, a book-wormish face and horn-rimmed glasses. His loud orange plaid shirt was garnished with a big red bow tie. He was sporting olive green slacks and the deepest electric blue sneakers I'd ever seen. If he weren't already married, he and Lula would have made a great pair despite needing sunglasses to gaze upon them as a couple.

"Hello, can I help you?" he asked.

"Yes, you can. Are you Sylvester Mantoni?"

"I am, and who might you be, little lady?"

"I'm a recovery agent. My name is Stephanie Plum. You missed your court date. I'm here to take you in to be re-bonded and set a new date for your court hearing."

"I think you're mistaken." His voice and hands shook with incredulous disbelief.

"No, no I'm pretty sure I'm not. You were supposed to appear in court for stealing a clock from the police station, and you were also charged with the attempted robbery of a police cruiser."

"That's impossible! I would never do something like that. I'm sixty-seven years old, and I've never had so much as had a traffic ticket. I swear to you!"

"Thelma?" He seemed agitated as he called out for someone to help him. "Thelma's my wife. She knows I'd never do something so crazy. She'll get this straightened out in no time. You know I've been with her every day, for over forty-five years."

No one came.

"Where is she?" He scanned the stairs, expecting her to appear.

She was just here a minute ago. Thelma?" He called out again.

Lula came in the front door, realizing we didn't have a runner this time.

What we had was one very confused, sweet old man, whom I believed did not recall his crimes. Something in his marble grey eyes seemed so disoriented and lost.

An older woman in a pink terry robe with bleached blond roller marked hair entered the house. "Who are these women?" she asked Sylvester.

"Oh Margie, thank goodness you're here. They're saying I did some horrible things, that I took a clock and stole a police car? Can you imagine me doing any such thing? I can't find Thelma. She'll tell them I didn't do it."

"Sylvester, remember Thelma's gone. She passed away two months ago." Margie gave us both a warning look. I could see the motherly protectiveness in her pale blue eyes.

"Oh my, I'd forgotten. I _miss_ her. When's she coming back?" he asked in totally childlike innocence.

How in the hell had the cops who arrested him missed this man's confusion and state of grief? Hadn't they tried calling his wife at work to come and get him or investigated her whereabouts?

"She's not coming back, Syl. I'm so sorry, honey. Do you want me to call your daughter in New York?" Margie asked caringly.

"Oh, no she's _way_ to busy. She can't leave work. I'll be okay. Tell them Margie. Tell them I didn't do the things they are saying."

"Ladies—a word." Her disciplining eyes sent us straight out to the front porch.

Under Margie's withering gaze, Lula's mouth dropped open as she pulled on her top ferociously, trying to get it to cover up her over-exposed breasts. I bit my lip. Margie had the persona of a retired schoolteacher, which is why I felt like I'd been caught passing a note in class.

"Can't you see Sylvester is in no condition to stand trial for anything? The poor man is wallowing in his grief. He and his wonderful wife were married for over forty-five years. She got sick suddenly and was gone within a month of her diagnosis. He's still in shock. I can't believe you don't realize that."

"I didn't know. We were just sent to do our job, and when he failed to appear we were dispatched to bring him in."

"I only heard what happened when I came back from seeing my sister in Tallahassee yesterday. He's living here all alone and he wanders away sometimes. He goes to a bar and has a few drinks. Who can blame the poor man? He was confused. Thelma worked at the nursing home for thirty-two years before she retired. He's a retired accountant. He'd picked her up every single day at the end of her shift. He was just trying to do what he'd always done. He didn't want to let her down. He simply didn't know what time it was. Is that really a crime?" Her eyes moistened, and so did mine.

"No." I agreed. "Do you know who the arresting officer was? I have a few very good cop friends at that precinct, and I'll see what I can do to get the charges dropped."

I just wanted to see that poor man smile. He wasn't guilty of anything more than heartbreaking loneliness. I was beginning to understand all too well what that might do to you.

"You will?" Margie's face lit up like a sunrise.

"Of course. He needs someone to watch out for him though. Do they only have one daughter?"

"Yes, and she works on Wall Street—a very high demand—high stress job. She doesn't have time to get here much, not even on the weekends. She came to be with her mother before she died and stayed on for the funeral. She set up someone to check on him once a week and to clean his house. Other than that he doesn't have another soul that I know of except me. I can check on him daily, but I'm not family."

I took a deep breath. I hated to see anyone so alone. My heart went out to Sylvester, and I wanted to help him. I wondered if Grandma Mazur would come over now and again and spend a little time with him.

"I'm glad he has you. I may have an idea of someone who could come and visit him a couple times a week. Maybe she could even get him out once in a while to get a change of scenery."

Margie smiled at me giving me a quick hug. She went back into the house and shut the door.

Lula put a hand on my arm, looking at me in admiration. "Girl, you never fail to amaze me. You always find some way to get involved beyond what's normal. How you manage to get yourself into all the lives of the people you're supposed to be hunting down is beyond me. Sally Sweet, Mooner—the list goes on and on. I guess it all started with you going after Officer Hottie, cuz you took that man into your heart big time, and you just ain't never stopped."

I smiled sadly. I wasn't _ever _going to stop. It _had_ started with Morelli. I missed him so damned much! My eyes began to water a bit.

"OH girlie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring up a sore subject. You know I'd as soon hang that man up by his private parts after what he done to you!"

"You're right. I do take them into my heart. What's wrong with that? Everyone needs a break once in awhile."

"Yeah they sure enough do. Okay so now what? This FTA was about as fun as a fizzled out firecracker. I nearly wanted to sit down and cry along with that poor old guy."

"I need to make a call."

"Okay, go ahead. I'll wait. Then we can go get ourselves some of that deep fried chicken with some hominy and mashed potatoes."

"No Lula I need you to take me to my car. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Steph, who is it that you're you calling all the time? Why are you being so mysterious about it? I don't like it when you keep things from Lula."

"No one. I just have a business call to make. I think I'm kind of worn out, you know, after the hospital and all. I'm not quite up to par. I've got some insurance stuff to take care of."

"Oh Lordy! Don't talk to me about that shit. I hate the way you have to show your card before they even take you in." She paused and looked at me suspiciously. "Wait a minute—I don't have a card, and neither do you. We don't' have insurance. What insurance?"

"I had some when I worked for Rangeman. I might be able to draw a claim," I said thinking on my feet.

"Okay—as long as you're not trying to pull a fast one on Lula. You're my best friend. I guess you'd never do that to me now would you?"

I smiled and nodded, trying to do my best not to actually lie.

Twenty minutes later, I was in the back yard of my parent's house. I wanted to go home. I missed my apartment, and I really wanted the privacy. It would be imperative after Joe got arrested. I wanted a place where I could cry my heart out and count the days until he returned without prying, pitying eyes witnessing my every emotion.

I punched in the saved number, longing to hear his voice.

"Hey," he greeted me, his tone dejected.

"Hey yourself. Why didn't you call me last night? Oh—am I supposed to talk yet?" I suddenly remembered the rules.

"It's okay. I just got out of my car, returning from a double homicide from hell. I'm at the precinct."

"I missed hearing your voice last night."

"The phone works both ways, Steph."

"I know. I was afraid you'd be accusing and angry again."

"Do I sound that way now?"

"No you sound tired and sad."

"I wanted to call you. It's just—I hated the thought of you being jealous of Ranger and Kate. I understand how weird it is to you, but—"

"I love _you,_ Joe. God, you're the only thing I can think about. I was just so surprised when Vinnie said there was something between them. It was probably ages ago. I'm sorry if it felt like I was still hung up on Ranger. I'm not—I swear!"

"Okay." I could hear a long relieved exhale. "I believe you. You're all I think about too, Cupcake."

"We need hobbies," I laughed, trying to make light of the situation.

"Well, I'll be making license plates in a couple of weeks."

"That's not funny, Morelli."

"I know. Believe me, I know."

I bit my lip and held back the threatening tears. The last thing he needed was for me to breakdown. I had to keep strong for him.

"Listen, I need information on the arresting officer of a man by the name of Sylvester Mantoni. He's the nicest guy you'd ever want to meet. He was married for forty-five years. Can you imagine being happily married that long?"

"I sure can," he answered wistfully.

"Anyway, he was trying to find a clock to make sure of the time. He was afraid of being late to pick her up from work— only she died two months ago." I couldn't keep the tears from my voice. "He'd had a few too many drinks—"

"I heard about that. He stole the clock at the front desk and tried to make it into a wristwatch with his belt. Apparently, he'd lost some weight recently and his pants fell down. They said he singing "As Time Goes By" like a broken record the whole time. The guys were talking and laughing about it for days afterward. Was that the one?"

"It's worse than the report I had. Yeah, that's the guy. It's not funny. It's _incredibly_ sad. He failed to appear. Those charges should be dropped. He's as innocent as he can be, and he's deeply grieving for his wife. Can you do something?" I asked hopefully.

"I'm not exactly popular right now."

"I know, but what about Michaels? Can you ask him to do it? He owes you that one small favor and a hell of a lot more. Please Joe? This man is so lonely without his wife. It just felt wrong. He doesn't need to be tortured more than he already is."

There was a long silence. I knew we were both thinking of the torture that lay ahead of us, and the possibility I could be left in the same shoes as Mr. Mantoni. The stomach churning began again, along with the throat closing.

"I _love_ you so much, Stephanie Plum. I've never been able to say no to you."

"That's good isn't it?"

"Yeah that's good. You have a heart that encompasses the entire universe. Do you know that?"

"I like that you think so. The whole universe, huh?"

"My universe for sure."

"You're one to talk about big hearts, Morelli."

No one had loved me in my entire life the way he had. When he'd first told me he loved me, he'd done it so naturally and casually, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. I hadn't said it back, not for a very long time. He'd been patient and never pushed me other than a few hopeful, cajoling "ands" after he'd said it to me. I knew he'd wanted to hear it back, but the words just wouldn't come. I hadn't been willing to put myself out there. He'd never stopped proving and showing me his love toward me, and finally it had become pretty damned easy to say back.

"I'll see what I can do for Mr. Mantoni. I'll let you know. I don't see why the charges were ever filed in the first place, poor old guy."

"Thanks—you've always taken such good care of me and given me everything I've ever wanted." Damn it crying was becoming my new hobby.

"I've loved taking care of you when you've actually let me."

"Will we get to talk tonight too?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm a really lucky woman to have caught you."

"I _let_ you catch me."

"You're never going to give in on that one, are you."

"Not as long as I live," he agreed.

I prayed we'd be arguing about it for a very long time to come.

**Kate's POV**

There I was standing in the kitchen of another pretend house, playing at being a robot wife. What the hell was I doing there? I'd made such a mess out of everything, and I didn't know how to fix any of it—most of all me. I poured myself a glass of orange juice absently, absorbed in my myriad emotions.

Joe was at work, and I was there alone with my torturous thoughts. It didn't matter because when he _was _there, the tense silence between us was worse than being alone. I'd felt nothing but guilt since saying those vicious things to Stephanie. My conscience was prickling all over the place. At least I still had one. The way I'd been acting you'd never know it.

_Acting_.

My God, all my life had become was one big phony act. I didn't feel like me anymore. I'd assumed so many aliases over the years—pretending to be everything I wasn't.

You name it—I'd masqueraded as it. A Russian secretary, German translator, French mistress, temperamental Italian model, airline flight attendant, wedding planner, bank executive, computer specialist, happily married woman. The list never ended, and neither did the career description that made an art form out of heartless, calculated, lying and pretense.

My latest act wasn't even my cover. It'd been my retaliation. I couldn't believe I'd stooped so low. I'd taken every ounce of decency I'd had left and torn it to shreds. I'd methodically, tortured two people, who'd done _absolutely _nothing to deserve it. First Joe at the hotel in Atlantic City and then Stephanie yesterday right there on the streets of Trenton.

Why in the hell had I done that? Half of what I was doing since I'd gotten to Trenton felt like someone else was controlling my body, mind, heart and soul and pretending to be me. I was feeling more confused than I'd _ever_ been before in my life.

Was it being around _him_ again? I'd tried to ignore everything I'd felt from the moment I'd first seen him. I'd been doing that for a very long time—disregarding everything that pertained to anything personal in my life. Throwing myself full throttle into the work for the last four years, I'd allowed myself only the intimacy of my family. Everything else I'd done was on my own. I'd closed off my heart intentionally, never intending for it to be opened again.

It was just easier that way.

As for friends, I'd lost most of them due to the career as well. It'd taken me in so many different directions, requiring extensive travel. I'd kept anyone but family from knowing what my true career actually was. It was a lonely existence. The pain I'd held inside had numbed my heart and made me cynical and resistant, toward the idea of pursuing any kind of relationship.

And then I'd met Joe.

There'd been something so comforting about him. He'd been sweet, refreshingly real—and in so much pain. I was able to identify with him so easily. Maybe that's why there'd been such an undeniable connection at first. I hadn't been looking for love—or anything with any man—ever again. I'd been burned enough. I wanted to protect myself from ever having to feel that devastation again.

The instant chemistry with Joe had allowed me to focus on something other than my past. Unfortunately I'd been facing it every day in an official capacity—at clandestine meetings regarding Joe's future. _He'd_ called me personally to do this job. He'd said he didn't know anyone who was better qualified or who could handle herself more professionally.

Why had I said yes?

Oh God, had I made a liar out of him! Nothing I'd done since the moment I'd set eyes on Joe had proven my expected competence.

I was ashamed of how far I'd strayed from the job. I had feelings for Joe, but I wasn't sure anymore if it was love or infatuation or just plain hero worship.

You had to admire a man who was willing to put his entire life on the line, to protect the woman he loved. His altruistic soul was such a rarity too. I couldn't help but be attracted to a man who wanted to rid his community of all the evil corruption threatening to strangle it.

I _did _love him for that.

But was I as madly in love as I'd thought? I wasn't sure? He'd treated me like shit since the day of the wedding—even before that. I'd had it coming. I'd given him as good as I got—even allowing myself to go so far out of line on that wedding night of ours. I wondered again if someone had drugged me and taken my place? What if he'd gone through with falling into my trap and we'd become lovers?

I'd have totally ruined his life and his chance for happiness with Stephanie—forever.

Yesterday, when I should've just sat there smiling during lunch with Mrs. Morelli, I'd escaped her glaring eyes and the fact she was barely tolerating me as Joe's wife. I'd seen clearly her preference to Stephanie over me. I'd taken it personally and had gone off the deep end again. I'd run out there with the express purpose of torturing Stephanie with the possibility of Joe's infidelity.

Why?

What in the hell was wrong with me?

It couldn't be I was jealous after so many years, could it? That would indicate I still had feelings. There was no way in hell I'd be that stupid! No it couldn't be that.

It was the fact everyone loved her so damned much. Stephanie and Joe were like a sacred litany on everyone's lips. It didn't help that everywhere I went people would stare at me. Some even pointed and whispered so loudly I could hear it. They always brought up how Joe should have married Stephanie, and how I was nothing more than the gold-digging hussy who'd stolen him away.

I couldn't defend myself, and I shouldn't have let it bother me. But it did. Big time. Because they'd been speaking the truth. I HAD tried to steal him away. I'd never let anything on the job get to me like that in the last four years.

We needed everyone to keep talking and spreading more vicious lies about Joe. We'd planned his fall from grace to start an entire year before he'd ever met me, thus I wasn't going to look at all culpable of having participated in his despicable criminal actions. Until the concrete evidence surfaced, I was the one being held responsible for his turn to the dark side. Everyone and their brother believed the worst of me.

Who could blame them? I wondered if I looked as guilty as I felt. I wished I could take every damned thing I'd done since I'd gotten to Trenton back. There was no taking it back. Everything had been expertly placed in motion.

I pictured what it would be like to see Joe arrested and handcuffed. I was going to be there to witness it. We would be having one of our dinners and behaving like newlyweds. Then the feds and the TPD would crash through the doors, humiliate him in public, read him his rights and drag him off to jail. Tears formed in my eyes, because _I'd _planned the whole goddamned thing!

Taking my glass of orange juice, I hurled it at the kitchen wall. It crashed and shattered into tiny shards as the orange sticky liquid left a splattered mark—drips running all over the previously pristine white walls.

I walked over to the broken slivers and bent to pick up one of the bigger pieces of glass, cutting my finger instantly. The tears in my eyes had evidently thrown my vision off a bit. As I started to get up, I _felt_ HIS presence before I saw his black boots in my line of blurry vision.

_Shit_

"What in the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?" I held my bleeding finger, trying to get past the shock.

Not answering, he rushed to my side and helped me to my feet. Grabbing a dishtowel, he pressed it hard against my cut. My free hand grazed his chest because we were so close. It had nowhere else to go, and I needed it to steady myself because my legs were shaking like mad.

The instantaneous quickening of my heart at the feel of his hand holding mine made me want to burst into more tears. I swallowed hard, keeping my eyes averted from his. I hoped he'd think the tears were from the pain I'd inflicted on myself.

"There's a first aid kit in the drawer behind you," I told him, forcing my voice to stay even.

He turned, never letting go of my finger, and pulled it from the drawer. He moved my hand on his chest to cover the towel holding my finger, while he removed the wrapping from the band aide and placed it around my cut.

"I think the bleeding should stop soon. You shouldn't need stitches. It's not a deep wound," he informed me calmly.

_You want to make a fucking bet? _It was all I could do not to slap his hand away from me. I wobbled a little, and he reached out to help steady me. My hand grasped his shirt.

"What are you doing here?" I asked again. He was so damned close to me. It was a hauntingly familiar feeling. Taking in the scent of him, feeling his touch, my fingers shook as I felt his heart thumping steadily. My own heart accelerated, and I pushed against his body, I needed to distance myself. He held me by the shoulder for a few seconds, and, with his free hand, tipped my face up. His eyes looked deeply into mine. I caught an infinitesimal glimpse of emotion before his self-protective instincts blocked it out.

"Meghan."

"Ranger."

"You better be more careful. You should've known I was here. You didn't drop that glass. You threw it. There's orange juice all over the wall." He made his usual keen observations, and I took that as my cue to push him away from me. Taking two more steps back, I braced myself for the rejection I'd grown to expect.

He took me in as if he were weighing my merit. "What are you so upset about? Emotions at a time like this are not wise."

I laughed cynically. He'd taught me so much about being hardened and stoic.

"When do you _ever _think emotion is wise?"

"You should've known I was in this room. You should've had a knife in your hand or your gun drawn. You shouldn't have been so pre-occupied with your feelings that you missed what was happening in your surroundings."

"I was having a _moment,_ Ranger. Excuse the hell out of me if I need to feel human once in fucking while!"

"It seems to me you're still having one."

"You should try having one some time! It's goddamned good to get mad and feel something for a change."

His jaw tightened. I could see he was pissed. Good. I wanted him pissed. I wanted him to suffer the way he'd made me suffer all those years ago. I wanted to shake him. I was so damned tired of getting NOTHING back from him. He was still treating me like he'd never known me? Why?

Did he wish he hadn't?

"You're really not yourself today," he observed as if I was some kind of lab rat.

"What can I say? You bring out the best in people."

My eyes flashed angrily. I still felt so much rage—even after all these years. He could bring that anger up in me with a skeptical twitch of an eyebrow or that coldly allusive gaze of his.

Walking up to him, I fixed my eyes upon his again. I let him see _every _shred of pain he'd caused me. He saw months of tears, anguish, self-doubt and sorrow. I wanted him to see what his callousness had done to me, and how it'd changed me—forever.

I wanted him to react to it. I wanted him to feel remorse. I wanted him to have regret. I wanted—

Nothing.

There was nothing in his return gaze. His lack of feeling infuriated me. I raised my hand to slap his face, a slap I'd been holding back for four long years. My bandaged, hand swung back to deliver the blow. His quick reflexes snapped into action, as his own hand shot out to prevent the attack, twisting my arm away painfully. Moaning with the onslaught of hurt and gasping for breath, I took one last look at him. There had to be some feeling left toward me. If not, then every moment we'd spent together had been nothing but another lie.

But it _was_ there.

There was recognition for me in his eyes. Those dark ebony pools softened, shining for a brief instant with fond recollection.

Finally.

All my memories of him came flooding back, and I knew without a doubt, they had for him too. We stood there transfixed in the past. His grip on my hand slackened, and the pain eased, but he didn't let go.

It was all I could do not to fling myself into his arms and feel his body close to mine again. I'd missed him. I'd never stopped missing him.

He dropped my hand, and the mask was firmly put back in place.

"None of this behavior is like you. Morelli's going in soon, and I hope you don't need me to remind you how important it is for you to be at the top of your game." He'd slipped right back to army special ops mode as if the kinetic energy we'd felt seconds ago had never happened.

I stilled the emotions threatening to spill over, and, once again, became the consummate FBI professional I'd been trained and brainwashed to be.

"No, Ranger, I don't need you to remind me of anything."

"Meghan, you have a job to do. I noticed some tension between you and Morelli the other day. Are you sure you can keep the mission as your top priority?"

"I'm here. I'm doing my job, just as you requested me to do."

"Do you have feelings for Morelli?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"He's not available. You'd get hurt. Hell, he might not even make it out of prison. Then where would you be? If he _does _make it out, Stephanie is the woman he'll be coming back to—not you. Don't fool yourself with this make believe act. Any feelings for him would be a mistake."

I laughed contemptuously. "You—worried about my mistaken feelings? Excuse me if I find that funny."

"I chose you for this job, because you know what to do in this situation. Personal feelings cannot enter into it at all."

"Right—no personal attachments. I get it. Don't worry—I learned my lesson. You taught me all too well. I'll never forget it."

"You have a job to perform. Any carelessness on your part could cost lives."

"What do you think I am? Why did you even ask me here? Was it just to bark orders at me and make me feel inferior? I know how to do this with my eyes closed and one hand tied behind my back!"

"See that you do. I thought you could be counted on to do this without complications."

"Complications? Yeah, I know how you hate those. Would it complicate things for your emotionless soul if I died while in service doing the job _you_ set up?"

"I don't want anyone to die."

"Gee, thanks for that."

"What's with you, Meghan? You agreed to come here and do this. Are you having second thoughts? If you are, it's a little too late now."

"I'm fine. This conversation is pointless."

"This whole operation is under my watch. I'll decide what is pointless."

"Don't you _always?"_

"This is _my_ business."

"You mind your business, Ranger, and I'll mind mine. The less we talk the better off we'll both be. Isn't that your motto?"

His eyes flickered with a spark of anger, but as always, he shed the emotional crap as fast as a snake drops its skin.

"I only came here to make sure you were on your game for this. We need to get everything in line. My men will be sent to jail for violation of their parole by the end of this week. That should put Morelli's arrest to two weeks from this Friday. Is everything in order?"

"Yes. It's all in place."

"Good. Carry on with _your_ business then."

"I don't _need_ your approval or permission to do anything I do. Good bye." With trembling legs and a throat sore from the effort of maintaining composure, I sidestepped him. The stupid jackass had some nerve telling me what I could or could _not_ feel and for whom! I left him standing there. He could let himself out.

The impassive bastard!

The sooner this damned mission was over the better. I couldn't handle seeing him this much. I thought I'd gotten over him ages ago, but running into him, smelling his fragrance, feeling his touch—it was like having a deadly virus reoccur inside me. It had suddenly come back to infiltrate my heart. It'd weakened me four years ago. The scars left behind supposedly healed had instantly turned back into gaping wounds.

**Ranger's POV**

Damn it! Why had I let seeing her again get to me? I was in love with Stephanie, wasn't I?

"Was"?

Did that mean I was finally beginning to let her go?

It'd been seven long months since she'd chosen Morelli. I had respected her wishes. I'd seen the look in her eyes. I'd known her decision had been final.

I really missed the brightness that was her. Those beautiful blue eyes and that shining smile—all of those funny, crazy and eccentric tendencies that only Babe had. She'd weaseled her way into my heart. I hadn't been looking to fall in love with her. I'd only wanted to mentor her at first and help her because she'd been so clueless about everything. I didn't want to see her end up dead just because of her inexperienced-rush-in-without-thinking-recklessness.

I smiled fondly remembering those first days. She'd had me smiling all the time the past several years. I'd been determined to keep our relationship all business. Let her be with Morelli. Let him give her all the things I knew in my heart she'd wanted all along. I'd done a really great job at fooling myself for a short time.

I hadn't been able to keep her out of my head, my heart, or my bed. I'd done everything I could to keep her wanting me. I'd tried telling myself I was being honest with her. I'd never offered her one certainty regarding our future. She'd come to me willingly anyway. I'd tricked myself into believing she loved me as much as I loved her.

I'd completely ignored her love for Morelli and had pretended it didn't bother me. I'd gone against the unwritten code you don't poach on another man's woman. I'd poached and re-poached, never allowing the guilt I should've had to stop me.

I'd deserved every bit of heartache I'd gotten. She'd chosen him, and I'd had to find a way to live with it. It'd taken seven months of holding back the urges to call her, so as not to ignore her wishes. I'd picked up that damned phone thousands of times, only to throw it across the room. The bill for replacements had become astronomical.

I knew I had NO right to expect her to choose me. I'd given her no hope of ever being anything more than a sexual partner and an employee that would always be by my side. I hadn't promised her a ring or a life or anything permanent—ever. I'd stuck by my word and my fucking code of ethics, until it'd felt like it was choking me at times.

I wished I could just lose that code and go with the flow of my heart like other people did. Every time I allowed myself to think about it, my soul reminded me it wasn't to be. I could never be so selfish as to give up the purpose that had become my life. But there were times with Stephanie I'd come so damn close.

She'd never denied loving me, but she'd never torn herself completely away from Morelli either. In my head and heart, I'd known she never would. He'd already been a part of her destiny long before I'd entered the picture. I'd had to let her go.

I wanted to be there for her through Morelli's arrest and imprisonment, but I knew it would only make it harder to release her if he came back alive and well. She'd be in his arms again before you could say, "Cupcake". I scoffed inwardly at that stupid nickname. What kind of idiot calls a woman Cupcake?

Probably the same kind of idiot that calls a woman Babe.

Giving her that diamond watch, I'd realized she had been extremely instrumental in making me believe that someday I'd have more. I thought it would be with her. I'd fooled myself into believing it would be with her.

But this way felt right. She was Morelli's. She'd always been his. I was only letting her go in my head. Her heart had been gone from the very beginning. The knowledge wasn't quite as painful now. I hoped we'd at least see one another occasionally, because I couldn't imagine never having her in my life in some capacity.

_Goodbye Babe_.

I felt a huge feeling of surrender. I'd always love her, but I could love her unselfishly. I could let her go and give her the freedom to fly, as she'd always wanted.

Suddenly another nickname I'd used in the past came to mind. I couldn't erase the memories it brought. Seeing her again today had made it so vividly real.

Meg.

Beautiful—willful—dazzling—sweet—funny—stubbornly independent—Meg.

She hated me now. Who could blame her? I'd never told her why we ended. Hell did I even know why? It simply had felt like it was time to end it before—before what?

I didn't know. I didn't want to know. I couldn't afford to find out.

She'd made it pretty clear all she felt for me now was contempt. Good. I could work with that. It would make things easier. I nodded and tried valiantly to push the thoughts of her behind me, as I sat in the car.

Trying to rid myself of all those damned memories was next to impossible. Meg in my arms. Meg smiling. Meg in the shower. Making us dinner; sipping wine; and kissing me with such indescribable passion. I felt the heat infiltrating my body as though it were happening all over again. _I'd loved her_.

There.

I'd let myself think it. It had only taken six years to figure it out. I _loved_ her, but not in the same way as I'd loved Stephanie.

Meg hadn't needed me the way Stephanie had. She'd always stood strong and capable on her own two feet. I knew if she'd wanted to, she could kick my sorry ass from there to Mars and back.

She'd loved me so openly and so uninhibitedly. It had never mattered to her I didn't disclose my deepest secrets. She'd understood how things stood. She'd never been afraid to run into my arms and give herself over to me as if we were one person. She'd never held back. She hadn't been torn between two men. She'd wanted me.

Only me.

She'd made herself completely mine from the very first moment we'd kissed. She'd accepted me as I was, and I'd accepted her. I'd fallen madly and deeply in love with her. I'd made changes to my life constantly to be with her. We'd made every moment together count a million times more, because they'd been too rare.

I'd _loved _Meg. I finally realized now I'd been scared shitless of my feelings, and that's why I'd ended it.

Now it was too late.

I'd blown any chance of ever having either of the deepest loves of my life.

Maybe it was for the best. I'd made my decision regarding both women. From now on, I would steer clear of anything remotely emotional and keep my causes and my life's work as my mistress. I'd allow myself a casual fling when I needed sexual release. That was better. I'd never allow myself to fall in love again. It brought way too many impediments and steered me so far off my course that I'd lose all sense of direction and purpose. I could never allow that to happen again.

I needed to focus on the goals in front of me and force my heart to stop getting to my head. This week wasn't going to be easy. Cal, Hector and Tank would be leaving me for some time to come. What would to do without Tank? He was my right-hand man—my loyal, devoted and nearly as stoic as me best friend.

What on earth had possessed me to agree to him going into that prison to protect Morelli?

Stephanie.

We'd both done it for her. There'd been no argument. No discussion. Our eyes had met as I'd asked for volunteers, and he'd told me without a word he was going. I knew he'd agreed to it for me too, because if I could have gone in there to help protect Morelli myself, I would have.

For her, I wouldn't have hesitated for now I could clearly see we weren't meant to be more than dear friends. I couldn't deny she'd been the one to soften my hardened ideals. She'd made me see that having a cool heart wasn't the necessarily the right way to lead an exemplary life.

Maybe if I'd met her before I'd met Meg, things would've gone very differently when Meg _had _entered my life. I hadn't even allowed the temptation clawing at me four years ago to make a mark on my resolve. I'd turned away from Meg without even looking back. Had that been a huge mistake?

Today it'd all come tumbling back. She'd touched me too. I never let her know how deeply. She'd had a lot of pain to sort through, and I hadn't wanted to bring her more. But I had. I could see today just how fucking much I had.

She'd never forgive me, and I wouldn't even know how to begin to ask her to.

And now my mind had to focus on the task at hand, which was Stephanie and saving the love of her life. Morelli was my number one goal. The idea of it was getting easier to handle. Things were definitely taking a more platonic turn as a result. I had to ensure Stephanie's happiness before I could pursue my life.

I couldn't imagine what she'd do if Morelli didn't make it. The thought of those big blue eyes filled with despair and anguish, was not an option. Her heart would break into a trillion pieces if he died. I could never stand to see her in that kind of pain.

My three best men were due back tonight. I'd given them paid vacations to go home and see family. They deserved that time, because God only knew if they'd ever have the chance again. Hector hadn't had anyone to see, so he'd gone home with Tank.

I felt pride in my company and my men. They may have come from nefarious and odd backgrounds, but, by God, I'd proudly stand next to any of them. They'd come a long way from my first encounters with them, and they'd all become like family.

I'd never admit that to any of them. It was simply understood like the brotherhood of the military or law enforcement. We had one another's backs, and that meant everything to me. I felt like a proud father sending his sons off to battle. I couldn't allow myself one thought of any of them not returning to the ranks.

**Steph's POV**

I kept staring at the picture of the bar brawl, not quite believing what I was seeing. Tank looked enraged. His hand was shoved against the chest of the poor bartender. The other two Rangeman employees were fist fighting with patrons in the background. I reread the headline of the Trenton Times and once again my mouth fell open.

What in the hell was happening? Was the freaking world about to end? The three guys had been arrested the night before. Tank, Cal, and Hector were charged with concealing weapons, assault, threatening a bartender with bodily harm and drunken and disorderly misconduct.

Shit.

I kept reading. Oh my God, they'd all been guilty of parole violations and were to be remanded back into custody immediately.

What had happened to them? They'd never done anything around me more than have a few too many beers. I'd seen to it they'd been carted home, mostly because they'd been singing too loudly and falling asleep.

I wanted to call Ranger, but I hadn't seen him since he'd given me the watch. He must be sick inside. Tank going to jail was unthinkable. I'd grown out of my intimidation of all of them slowly but surely. Those big burly men had become sweetly familiar, albeit strangely tattooed, teddy bears to me.

I wanted to call Joe and ask him for another favor. But I doubted even he could make this disappear. I wanted to cry again. My whole world was going topsy-turvy. Feeling powerless to stop it, I gave into those damn tears that were never very far away.

Lula called first.

"Lordy girl, can this be true? How can this have happened? All three! I love me some Tank. You know he's the true love of my life. Why, if it weren't for my damned allergies, we'd be married now, and I'd be going down to visit him. I'd bring him one of them cream filled cakes from the Tasty Pastry, and I'd even put a file in it like a good wife should. If we'd just gotten married, they couldn't make me testify against him either? Do you think it's too late? I could still marry him."

"Lula, there's no reason for you not to testify. You don't know anything about anything. He was taken into custody right away for parole violations. And I'm pretty sure they'd find the file when they put the cake through the x-ray machine at your visit. But if you still want to marry him, then you should tell him, because you never know if you'll get a chance to again." My voice broke on that last sentence.

"Oh girl, are you all sad sacked because of Officer Hottie again? Maybe the marriage to the red haired vixen won't last. And you'll get another chance with him, but not before he gets himself a piece of Lula's mind. I won't be having him treat my BFF that way ever again!"

"I have to go Lula. I just remembered I'm moving back to my apartment today."

"You are? Are you sure? Who's going to watch your back? Aren't you still a little shaken from that thing in the grocery store parking lot? You want me to come and stay with you?"

"No thanks. I'll be fine."

"Okay, if you change your mind, you just call your BFF, and I'll be there. I'll bring my taser and my mace and—of course my Glock. Oh, and I've got some new multi-colored neon polishes. We could take turns doing one another's nails, like one of them slumber parties. I could do something with that unruly mop of yours too. You need an edge girl. That way no man will ever mess with your feelings again the way Officer Hottie did."

She went on, "You just call me now if you change your mind. I wonder how soon Tank can have visitors?"

I hung up the phone.

My private untraceable phone rang. Thank God! I'd never needed to hear anyone's voice more.

"You okay, Cupcake?"

"No."

"I understand. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, Joe."

Silence.

"Joe?"

"It is my fault—in a way."

It took me about ten seconds to put two and two together.

"Oh my God! Ranger _is_ in on this. He's protecting _you_." I started to cry.

"They're _all_ protecting me."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I know how much you love those goons of yours. And I felt bad—like it shouldn't be happening. Maybe I've been in a little denial."

"Has this been in the works all along?"

"Ranger's in charge of the security of the entire operation. Joe Juniak requested him. I didn't know any of it until my entire role in this was explained to me. They kept me in the dark for a long time. I didn't want to upset you, but I didn't want to keep it from you either. Knowing they'll have my back ought to make you feel better. But it's a catch twenty-two, because if anything happens to one of them, you'll be blaming me forever."

"Joe, I won't blame you. I'll blame myself. They did this for me, didn't they."

"Yeah. They really love you, _especially_ Ranger." His voice seemed grudgingly accepting.

"Do you know how grateful I am? I have hope now. I was so petrified for you to be in there all by yourself. It's a great plan."

"I have to admit something I'm not proud of, Cupcake."

"What?"

"I also didn't tell you, because I know how you and that gratitude of yours ended up last time. I admit I'm a little jealous. Ranger is such a goddamned hero! I mean he's sacrificing his best men for you."

"You're _my _best man. You're my only hero. You're doing _all _of this because you want to protect me and everyone else in Trenton. Morelli, you're the only one who gets to wear the tights and the cape in my book."

"Gee, a dream come true," he tossed back in that wise-cracking way of his.

"Come to think of it. I think I remember a couple of dreams of you in tights," I teased.

"Funny." I could almost see his eye-roll.

"I am very grateful to Ranger for this."

"Not too grateful," Joe warned lightly.

"Don't worry—I'm saving that up for you."

"Steph, it won't be much longer now. At least I'll be going in there soon, and it will be really good to have a few friendly faces around me."

"Friendly? Tank, Cal, and Hector?" I chuckled doubtfully.

"Okay familiar."

"They're wonderful. You'll be in good hands."

"It's a good plan," he conceded.

"You're going to come home to me now. I have no doubt." And Tank, Cal, and Hector will be fine too." I felt a burst of optimism, and my heart filled with hope.

"From your heart— to God's ears, Cupcake."

It was ten o'clock that same night, and I was so happy to be home in my own apartment. I'd missed it. It almost felt as though I'd been walking in for the first time, because in my head, I'd kept seeing it as that mish mash of bohemian hodgepodge I'd lived in before. The moment I'd stepped inside, however, my whole body had said, "Ahhh". It had felt instantly relaxing, and I'd been so grateful for the changes I'd made. It felt good to have my independence back.

Checking everything over carefully before placing Rex back his counter, I went through the messages, unpacking groceries as I listened. When it got to message number five, I stopped dead in my tracks. A low, cackling voice came through the speaker.

"Stephanie, you aren't home? Could you be in the hospital? I guess you have me to thank for that. I'll be in touch!" More cackling and then some long, obscenely heavy breathing followed this. I couldn't recognize the voice at all.

The horrifying memory of eyes staring down into mine came rushing into my brain. They were deep dark gray, and there'd been something in them hauntingly familiar. It would be the only way I could identify him, because the rest of his face had been hidden behind a knitted mask.

Chills ran up and down my spine. I was tempted to pack up and run right back to my parent's house.

No.

I wanted to be home. I'd be damned if anything or anyone was going to send me running scared. This is where I belonged. This is where I would be when Joe came back to me. I wouldn't tell anyone about it. The last thing Joe needed was to worry more about me. And Ranger had his hands full with less of his men on board.

The call had been made when I was in the hospital, and there'd only been the one message. But the thing that bothered me most was that only _one _message meant my attacker _had _singled me out.

And he was still free and roaming the streets of Trenton.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

Not my characters. No profit.

Carol, I am running out of ways to thank you! I really wouldn't do this without you! Thank you so much.

Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing and letting me know your thoughts and feelings.

Hey everyone I just want to mention, Laura 17 has added to her wonderful story "Life and Times of Stephanie Plum", I'm so happy she is back! Also if you haven't read them yet. Carol Blackhawk's series of "It's About"-are five of the best stories ever! Packed full of fun, drama, cliffhangers and romantic moments with all our favorites! Plum of a Journey by Knm2009 is beautifully written with Stephanie rediscovering herself and what she really wants. Pineapple Proposal by Amimorphgril is funny and endearing as well as her other stories of Afterwards and In Sickness and In Health. They are my favorites and great Cupcake reads! If there are any more Cupcakes out there thinking about finishing uncompleted stories or just thinking about starting to write Cupcake for the first time, please come and join in the fun! We'd love to have more to read!

**Joe's POV**

I had one week left until the time of my arrest was scheduled. Six days to tie up all the loose ends.

Ensuring that the people I cared for knew they were loved right to the end of my life was something I couldn't let go of. Knowing they might never get the whole truth if I was killed shook the core of my conscience. How could I let that happen? Needing them to know I loved them and would never forget or lose what they'd meant to me was essential. Doing anything else would be cruel and demeaning to the importance they'd held in my life.

How would I say a lasting goodbye to my Mom? I'd said things to her that day in her kitchen, but what words had been invented that would bring her comfort or assurance after I'd been reprimanded into custody?

My poor brothers and sisters! I'd attacked them like crazy at my mother's surprise wedding party. I didn't know how I'd ever repair that damage. We were all so different, but we'd grown up together in one hell of a dysfunctional, loud and crazy family. That was the bond between us.

We'd all survived it.

There was love there—hidden as it was. Our blood, sorrow, regrets and disappointments united us, but especially those rare moments of laughter, triumph, shared pride and happiness. When I'd graduated from the Police Academy, or when one of them had gotten married or their children were born, we'd put our differences aside to enjoy those times.

I may have avoided some family gatherings from time to time, but that didn't mean I wasn't there for them. I'd taken Tony in when his wife kicked him out. I'd waited on him hand and foot when his latest conquest had nail gunned his sadly deserving ass. He'd driven me nuts! They all did but they _were_ family.

My brothers had come over sometimes to watch games and shoot the breeze, and my sisters had never stopped asking when I was going to marry Stephanie and have a kid or two of my own. They'd also made sure, along with my mother and a slew of aunts, I'd never starved.

That was something the Morelli family had in common with the Plums. We used food as a sign of affection—a LOT of food.

That brought my second family to mind. The Plums had accepted me into their home as one of their family. So I wasn't in danger of only losing one set of loved ones, I could lose two.

My thoughts were running wild. I couldn't still my mind. My acid reflux was at an all time burning high.

How would I make that final call to Stephanie without turning into tongue-tied idiot? I had to stay strong for her. I couldn't even imagine or completely comprehend those minutes on our untraceable cell phones might be our last words exchanged—ever.

My eyes were constantly bloodshot from exhaustion. I hoped I'd regain my stamina for the job ahead. I hadn't even given it a lot of thought, because my mind was so pre-occupied with getting my affairs in order.

I'd noticed Kate's red eyes lately, and I hoped to God she wasn't crying about me. I didn't need her tears or her affection. At least when I went to prison, my daily association with her would finally come to an end. I didn't wish her ill will, and I hoped to God she lived through this. I really did. If I never had to see her again though, it would be too soon. Hell, I might not be seeing anyone I knew—ever again.

Shit.

I'd just turned thirty-six years old March 1st. That was a pretty fucking young age to die. Facing my own mortality really made me see what a shitload of time I'd wasted. There were so many things I'd intended to do I'd never been accomplished. I hadn't even had time to make myself a damned bucket list. The thing on the top of my list would have been, "Marry Stephanie, ASAP."

If I'd known this was coming, would I have taken nearly six months to forgive her and bring her back into my life?

Hell no.

There were so many things we'd finally said, but there were also a lifetime of things left to say.

After all of this internal struggle, I finally decided to hell with the confidentiality or the top security malarkey. What would it matter if I died? It wasn't like I'd be facing disciplinary action.

Instead I sat down and wrote every one of them letters. I decided to get a safety deposit box at the bank and put everything in there. In the event of my death, the person I chose to take care of it would ensure everyone important to me would find out the truth.

That one person would hold the key to all of it.

All my loved ones and friends would know there had been more going on beyond the tabloids, papers and news reports. Those I was closest to deserved honesty and a chance for closure. They needed to know I'd been at peace with my decision and had died for causes I completely believed in. I wanted them to know my heart had been in the right place all along. I would never have willingly chosen to betray any of them—ever.

I wrote letters to Carl and Big Dog, assuring them of my loyalty and thanking them for the years of friendship. Eddie had one too, thanking him for his allegiance and his faithfulness as a friend to both Stephanie and myself. I also asked him to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't wallow in grief over me. I knew if anyone could make that happen, it would be our dear friend Eddie.

I even wrote a letter to Mary Lou, asking her to be there for Stephanie. I told her what a great friend she'd always been, and how I knew she'd give Steph hell and kick her in the ass if she stopped her life from moving ahead because of me. I also told her she had one hell of a right hook.

The last letter I wrote to Stephanie. That one was the hardest.

With every fucking word, my throat closed a little tighter. Trying to convey what she'd meant to me in words without physical demonstration was nearly impossible. How could I tell the woman that'd changed my life from childhood on of her importance to me? A whole new language needed to be invented, and even that would never suffice.

Other than my cell phone conversations with Steph and those letters I'd written, I'd had no one else to talk to. Most of my talking had been to Bob. To him, I felt free to divulge my deepest darkest feelings about—everything. Bob looked like he understood. I wasn't sure how, but his whines and well-placed barks were pretty convincing to me.

God, leaving Bob sucked too. I couldn't write him a letter. He'd been the one constant link in my connection to Stephanie. Even when we were apart at times, having him and knowing she'd entrusted him to me was what always made me optimistic about her love for me. Every time she'd left, it had given me hope she'd return. And thank God she had.

I'd added him to my will, making sure if something happened to me, Bob went back to Stephanie. It would be like giving her a piece of _us_ to hold on to since we'd had no children to bring her comfort. Having showered so much affection on that crazy mutt over the years, I knew she'd always feel a connection to me through him. I wondered if I was in her will to get Rex if anything ever happened to her?

God forbid!

Nothing could _ever _happen to her. I'd protect her, even if from above. Hopefully, that's the direction I was headed in. I'd tried really hard to make my life count for something and to mend my youthful, careless and wild ways.

Sometimes of late, it'd felt like hell was right there on earth. I couldn't imagine much worse than the horrible crime scenes I'd seen. Watching the anguished faces of loved ones, as I'd had to notify them of their relative's death was always gut wrenching. Those were the days I'd come home, and, if Steph was there, I'd gladly lost myself in her beauty and her smile. She'd been able to make me laugh when all day without her I'd felt like a black cloud was hanging over me. She'd given me a piece of heaven on earth. I wondered if there was anything in the afterworld that could ever compare with that.

Okay enough of that melancholy bullshit. I had my job waiting and a few more days of freedom left to enjoy. I had to take care of my number one priority.

While I was in prison, I didn't want to lose all contact with Stephanie. I'd thought about what I could do to bring her some hope and a few smiles while I was away. I'd decided on a couple things to help her know she was always in my thoughts.

I'd gotten in the habit of writing her notes over the years. I'd leave them for her all over my house whenever I'd had to go out unexpectedly or leave for work before dawn. We'd had a pretty great tradition of taking advantage of our early morning energy by beginning our days with fevered lovemaking. Usually, I'd left her exhausted and sated in bed while I scurried off to the station.

I loved leaving notes for her to find in the most unexpected places. I knew I'd made her laugh and blush more than a few times with the things I'd written just for her. I chuckled as I pictured her reaction with each one I'd written this time. I'd made sure there were enough for several months of treasure hunting. They were funny secrets between just the two of us—things that would help her remember I loved her with everything within me. I hoped each one would at least bring a smile before they brought on any tears.

Enlisting Eddie's help, I'd given him a list of hiding places, asking him to sneak them into her apartment or car whenever he visited. I had no idea how long this damned operation would take. Of course if I didn't make it, I'd tell Eddie to throw away whatever notes were left. The last thing Steph would need from me would be more heartbreaking reminders of my death.

I'd arranged to make sure there would be flowers delivered automatically on all of the special occasions dear to us—her birthday, Valentine's Day, Halloween, the anniversary of making love at my house and when her apartment had first been fire bombed. I never thought I'd thank God for her home exploding, but I had many times over. Through the years, we'd never forgotten those half crazed, wondrously passionate moments of finally coming together. They'd taken a fucking long time to get there, after more than a few false starts and stops. Finally it had happened, and it'd been mind-blowing

We'd never forgotten to celebrate the exact date, giving it our best efforts to reenact every fiery second.

Yellow roses were her favorite. She'd know without a card that I'd sent them. I'd always done so, adding some red or pink at Valentines, some Halloween embellishments for that occasion, and so on. Those were the only kind of flowers I'd ever given her.

I'd also anonymously arranged for her to have a dozen donuts a week for a year—with only her favorites. She would also receive a birthday cake, with a random weird name written on it, once a month. She was going to need all the cake she could get to make it through whatever laid ahead.

If, God forbid, I was still in that damned place, I'd it set up for her to receive a dozen chocolate cupcakes with rainbow sprinkles on her birthday, October 12. They would be exactly like the one that had landed in her cleavage, during that monumental first encounter of ours at the Tasty Pastry. She'd know with every bite she took, she was in my heart—forever. Everything had been done anonymously and purchased with untraceable, prepaid credit cards.

I hoped it would be enough to keep her sweet tooth satisfied, until I could return to satiate the rest of her sweet needs. God! Not being allowed to see her or touch her was pure agony. I didn't even want to think about the next barren months without her.

I thought long and hard about whom to entrust with the key to the safety deposit box. After careful consideration and rejection of many possibilities, the answer had come out of nowhere. I smiled when it did. The person I chose definitely knew how to keep his mouth shut. I would give him instructions to stop all the deliveries I'd pre-arranged if something happened to me too. I only wanted to bring Stephanie little bits of happiness—not everlasting pain.

I called and asked him to meet me at my house on Slater. He didn't ask questions—just said he'd be there. I decided late night would be best time to eliminate a lot of prying eyes. We didn't live far away from one another, so I asked him to come on foot.

It felt so good to be in my own place again. I'd give anything to call Steph over for Pino's and a game. I very much doubted we'd get to the preshow before we'd be upstairs in our bedroom making love. I wanted nothing more. One time she'd asked me if I'd still love her if we couldn't make love any longer. I'd told her I would, but not as much. What a pile of crap that had been. I'd probably find a way to love her more. Loving her was always more.

Standing in my living room, I couldn't help but remember all the sacredly held moments I'd had with the love of my life. I was grateful to have one last time to savor them there where they'd happened.

The time we'd almost made love on the floor of the kitchen before a damned dud of a bottle bomb had come crashing through the window to rudely interrupt us. All the times we'd been happy just being in one another's orbit and sharing the simple mundane things of life. How funny she'd been as my caregiver when I'd been run over and left with a broken leg. She'd tried her best juggling her job, Bob, Rex and me. It'd been so endearing to watch her efforts—flying madly around the house to get us to Val's rehearsal dinner.

It was almost as if the walls had held the vibes of our lives together—all the sad, angry, happy, passionate, crazy and dearly treasured times we'd shared.

I heard the slight knock on the door. All the shades drawn shut, as I opened the door. I got pretty much what I'd expected. He gave me the once over, his expression grim and disapproving.

"Frank. Thanks for coming."

He gave me a disappointed frown. "Well, I can't say it hasn't occurred to me to call you myself and read you the riot act."

"I bet." I couldn't blame him. I'd feel the same way if it were my daughter.

"I don't understand what's going on? How could you do this to my girl." He sat down hard on the green chair in my living room.

"Frank, there isn't much I can tell you right now. I do want you to know I love your daughter with everything I am. That will never change."

His eyes popped wide open. I could tell it was the last thing he'd expected to hear.

"So then why in the Sam Hill did you marry someone else?" he asked, his voice rising substantially.

"I wouldn't do anything to hurt your family and especially Stephanie. You have to trust me on that. I love her. I always have, and I always will."

"I thought so," Frank said, his eyes softening slightly.

"I can't tell you much. It has to stay between us. Things aren't always what they seem. That's what this is, and no one else can know."

"I know very well, Joe, how to keep my mouth zipped shut and sealed tight. Living with those women of mine has given me loads of practice."

We shared a knowing look.

"I asked you here, because I trust you. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a father." I'd only realized it when his name came to mind, but I wanted him to know.

"You're the closest I've had to a son, unless you make me count Albert." He shook his head regretfully.

We smiled with man-to-man acknowledgement. More words weren't needed.

I took the key to the safety deposit box from my pocket. "This is a key to a safety deposit box at Roma Bank. It's in my name. I've given permission for you or for Stephanie to have access to it. If anything happens to me, you'd need to go with Stephanie. I don't want her alone when she sees its contents. She'll definitely need someone. I'd like it to be you. Stephanie will know what I've left her, and what it means. I've also left quite a few letters, which would need to be dispersed per my instructions. You'll find those in there as well."

"I don't like the sound of this," he told me, reluctantly accepting the key and placing it on his key ring.

"I don't either. I hope you never have to open it. There's a copy of my will in there too. My lawyer has instructions and will follow them to the letter."

"You sound like you're pretty sure you're going to meet your maker soon," Frank said, his voice cracking with untypical emotion.

"I'm a cop, Frank. You and I both know that day could happen anytime."

"This isn't like that. You're doing something more dangerous and more reckless than you've ever done before. Does my girl know about this? I see her eyes all red and puffy sometimes. I thought it was because you got married. You did get married?" he asked suspiciously, spying my ring.

"I did."

"You tell me you love my daughter. Are you also in love with your wife?" he asked skeptically.

I shook my head negatively.

"And Stephanie knows this?"

"Yes."

"She knows what you're up to?"

I nodded.

"Okay, you wanted me to know and to be there for her in case things don't go well for you, right?"

"Yes."

He bowed his head for a moment. The last thing I ever expected to see were Frank Plum's eyes filling over for me.

"God damn it son! What have you gone and gotten yourself into? I wanted you and Stephanie to be happy! To finally make it official and knock off all the breaking up bullshit!"

I said nothing. What could I say? It's what I wanted too—more than anything.

He read me silently. "You're doing this for Stephanie. She's in some kind of trouble or danger, isn't she."

I avoided answering him directly. "Thank you, for doing this. I knew you were the only person I could trust. It's good I can count on you to see to it that everything goes the way I planned."

We'd forged an unspoken camaraderie over the years through those zany weekly dinners and watching our favorite sporting events on TV together.

"Whatever you're doing for her, _thank you_," his voice broke on that. Wordlessly, he gave me an affectionate hug. I hugged him back. He _was_ like a father to me. I'd left him, Helen, and Grandma Mazur letters too.

"Don't you _dare _think about not coming back to my girl. You damn well better live!" He warned me, shaking a finger in my direction.

"I'll try my best. You'll take care of her?"

"Of course. I'll be there—whatever she needs. You _can_ count on that."

"Thanks, you're a good man, Frank."

"So are you, Joe. I never thought I'd say that when you were younger, but you're the only man for my daughter. I've known that ever since you came back into her life. Hell, I think I've known it since you two were kids. She may have gotten off track for awhile, but she knows it too."

He left. I gave myself a few more minutes to relish my memories before locking up.

**Kate's POV**

I wanted so badly to talk to Joe. I felt so much guilt in his presence. I knew the last thing he'd ever want to hear was my voice saying anything. I'd made some after-dinner coffee, knowing the caffeine wouldn't matter because sleeping at night had become a thing of the past for me. I couldn't seem to still my mind from restless thoughts—everything from Ranger, to the FBI to my family.

But the worst was not finding relief from my conscience. It was constantly nagging and gnawing at me with guilt over Stephanie and Joe.

I took a cup to Joe, who was sitting in the family room off the kitchen. He seemed pre-occupied as usual, but I knew he needed the coffee as much as I did. He looked stressed all the time these days, and I knew he was equally exhausted by the dark circles around his eyes and the haggard lines on his face. He only had three days of freedom left.

He accepted the coffee, barely nodding in acknowledgement. It was better than the usual harsh angry grumbles.

"Kate?"

I'd been on my way out of his space when I stopped; surprised he wanted to talk to me about anything.

"Yes?" I turned around in the doorway facing him.

"How long were you and Ranger together?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"No reason. Just curious."

"A little over two years." I saw his surprised reaction. Sighing deeply, I turned to go again.

"When?" he asked.

This time I walked back into the room. "It started on our first job together over six years ago."

He nodded.

I wasn't sure if he wanted to know more or not.

His face softened a bit after he took a sip of the coffee. "Two years is a long time."

I nodded, fighting the urge to cry. It was a fucking long time when every waking moment was spent thinking about him and every night was filled with dreaming of him.

"Why did it end?"

I was shocked Joe was asking me more. Maybe he was curious because of Ranger's relationship with Stephanie. Perhaps I would be providing answers for a lot of questions he'd probably been asking himself for years. I owed him whatever information he needed.

"I don't know." I shook my head and the damned tears I'd been crying every day since Ranger's visit to the house were threatening to spill again. _I didn't fucking know_!

"What do you mean you don't know?" Joe asked, finding it as ridiculous as I still did.

"He stopped calling out of the blue, and never came to see me again with no explanation."

"That must've been hard."

"It was." I nodded.

Joe motioned for me to sit, so I took a chair to the left of him. We looked at one another long and hard.

"Are you having a difficult time being around him now? There's a lot of pain in your eyes."

"You have no idea how much pain men have inflicted on me over the course of my life," I shook my head swallowing hard.

"I have time. I'm not going anywhere—yet."

"Don't you have more important things to think about than me and my relationships?"

"To be honest, I'd welcome a distraction. The thoughts I'm having—I don't want to have. They're all over the place."

"You really want me to tell you?"

"Maybe it would help me to understand you better. I liked you when we first met, Kate. My gut tells me even though I could strangle you for what you've done, there's more than what appears on the surface."

"You're such a good man. I've wanted to apologize to you ever since it happened. I can barely look at myself in the mirror. I hate what I did to you—and to Stephanie."

"Well she doesn't know yet, but I'm going to tell her everything. We have no secrets anymore. She'll get the truth. I only hope she knows it never would have happened if I'd been thinking clearly."

"I have to tell you something else first. You're going to want to strangle me all over again."

"Why? What did you do?" His antenna was fully raised, and I dreaded his reaction. I was pretty sure any progress we'd just made was about to quickly go by the wayside. He was going to be furious, and I couldn't blame him.

"I was on my way to having lunch with your Mom, and we ran into Stephanie the other day walking down the street. Angie asked me to go inside and get a table."

"And?" He straightened his back in dreaded anticipation. I could tell by his look that any moment of him softening toward me had already disappeared.

"And I felt left out. I watched them through the window. Your mother seemed so sad. She put her hand on Stephanie's cheek, and I could see how much she loves her. I knew everyone was talking about me, saying how I was bad for you. They whispered but it was loud enough to hear. People were saying I was no good, and that I didn't deserve someone as great as you, and if you'd done _anything _wrong, it was because I was a gold-digging hussy."

"What do you care what people think. You know you're playing a role." He shook his head.

"I had feelings about Stephanie that have NOTHING to do with you at all," I confessed.

"Just tell me what the fuck happened. What did you do?" he demanded impatiently.

"I waited until your mother went inside. I excused myself and went out to talk to Stephanie. More than talk really—I verbally attacked her."

"What in God's name did you say to her?" His tone was protectively threatening.

"I asked her how the single life was." I cringed, trying to convey to Joe how deeply regretful I was.

"Grrreat!" He turned his body away from me. Then he turned back. "You said you attacked her verbally. What else did you say?"

"I'm so sorry. I haven't been who I really am in _such_ a long time. I was hurt. Being maligned all over town, dealing with the woman Ranger chose over me—and those crazy mixed up emotions of mine going into constant overdrive over you. I acted out. I think I was retaliating. It wasn't something I'd planned. I promise you I didn't!"

"For the love of St. Peter, just tell me what you said to her!" He _was_ about ready to ring my neck.

I let it out in a quick spurted confession. "I told her our wedding night was memorable. I implied you and I made love."

"Son of a bitch!" Joe hit the table hard with his fist.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"What did she say?"

"She didn't believe a word of it," I said hurriedly.

"Thank God!" He took a deep, calming breath.

"I told her to ask you—to look into your eyes and see the truth. I told her you wouldn't be able to deny it."

I'd assumed confessing to Joe might free me. In reality, death by Joe was probably closer at hand.

"FUCK! What the hell are you trying to do to us?"

"I don't KNOW! I was trying to hurt her! NOT because of my feelings for you. HELL, I don't even know what those are anymore, but—"

"You can't excuse what you've done! Do you have any idea what she must be going through? She's waiting for me to be carted off to prison. She knows I married a woman I never made any secret of being attracted to, and now you let her believe you and I had sex! HOLY SHIT—is there nothing you won't stoop too?"

"I know!"

I started to cry. NOT to get his sympathy—I didn't deserve anything but his wrath. But I felt horrible bringing him this news with his own impending humiliation was so close at hand.

"I'm so sorry Joe. I've made a decision. After this job is over, I'm quitting. I'm done. I can't do this anymore. It's changed me into someone I don't even recognize!"

"You're blaming the job? Why don't you take some fucking responsibility for yourself! _You_ did all of this! Why in the hell is Stephanie even talking to me when she's questioning every bit of our trust thanks to you?"

His hands were making frenzied motions, and I knew I'd just about pushed his limit.

"I blame myself entirely. I do. If you want me to go to Stephanie and tell her the truth, I will. I feel horrible. I think I realized why I did it, and it makes me want to hide in a deep hole rather than admit the true reason."

"What reason could you possibly have that would excuse or make sense out of this mess you've created? Tell me, because I _really _want to know how your twisted mind works!"

He jumped to his feet, obviously waiting for my explanation. His ominous, angry brown eyes were flashing bullets at me.

"I'm—" I hesitated, my eyes filling and my throat closing with the mere idea of the truth I'd been forced to face. "I'm totally, and insanely jealous of her Joe. I wanted to hate her guts because she's the reason Carlo—Ranger left me without a word. He must have fallen for her. I think the moment he met her he dumped me. I still have—as much as I hate to admit it—feelings for him—after four miserably long years!"

"I thought you had feelings for me. Now you have them for Ranger too? What is it with you, women? Can't you settle on one goddamned man at a time? NOT that I want you to have feelings for me! But Jesus, you love Ranger? Does irony get any weirder than this?"

"I have deep admiration for you, Joe. I love how real you are. I've never met _anyone _who is as much of an open book. You're so down to earth and good hearted."

"So you did this because you blame Stephanie for the feelings Ranger has for _her_."

"No—yes—fucking hell, I don't know! Do you have any idea what it's been like to go _four_ years and never know why someone left you? I didn't know it was because of Stephanie, until you told me Ranger was the "other man" she was involved with. The timeline fit perfectly. He took up with her and just dropped me like an old shoe. It broke my heart. Do you know how many times my heart has broken?"

"I have no idea," Joe said unsympathetically. "This ought to be good though. Tell me—what happened to you that could have turned you into such a cold-hearted, manipulative—" he bit off the last word mercifully. He went back to his chair, shooting a nasty, fuming glare my way.

"It started in high school. I guess I'm just not destined for lasting love."

"Don't make me get out the violin," he mocked cynically.

"I went to a dance with a jock when I was a sophomore in high school. He was a junior. I still have NO idea why he asked me out. We started dating, and of course I fell hard. I was all legs and had a boyish figure at best. My hair was a frizzy mess. But he asked me to go to a dance, and I said yes. It was a freaking disaster."

"A lot of kids in high school have disappointing dates. You're going to have to do a lot better than that!"

I pushed my hair off my cheek and forced myself to go back in time. "He—"

I choked on it—still after all these years had passed. The idea that someone had put his hands on me and groped at me, pushing my beautiful dress over my head in order to molest me violently was something I'd never forget. It was one of the reasons I'd gone into the FBI. No fucking man would ever touch me against my will again! I figured I'd learn whatever it took to keep the bastards away from me.

"He—he came this close—" I held my hand up to show almost no distance between my fingers, "—to raping me."

I saw a flicker of concern in Joe's eyes, and he motioned for me to continue.

Looking into the darkness of the backyard, I continued, "He would have succeeded, but my older brother Riley, who was a senior, got wind of the fact Todd had been drinking. When he couldn't find me to warn me, he came out to the parking lot. He rescued me just in time. I was struggling in the car, trying to get Todd's grimy hands off my body. I was suffocating because he'd put one hand over my mouth."

I paused to catch my breath. "That was my wonderful first foray into the world of men. The dress I'd loved was torn into tatters, my reputation with it. All because that asshole had told anyone who would listen he'd scored a touchdown with me. After that, all the boys were out to make sure they got a piece of me too. I put my head down and concentrated all my energy into getting good grades, so I could earn a full scholarship to college."

I paused, looking at Joe to see if he even was listening.

"You have my attention. Go on."

Joe folded his hands across his chest. His eyes were still full of anger, but his jaw line had slackened a little. I knew he was at least open to hearing me out.

"I stayed away from men until I got into college. Who needed the jackasses? That is—until I met Craig. He was tall, blond, blue-eyed, athletic, super intelligent and the nicest guy when I first met him. We hit it off. My opinion of men changed slowly but surely, because I was so in love with him. He was studying to be a doctor. I had this fantasy I'd pass my bar and he'd finish his internship. He'd be assigned his residency; we'd marry and live happily ever after.

He took on too many courses and couldn't handle the pressure. Overnight he changed into an angry, verbally abusive stranger. I found out he was on amphetamines to get him through the long days and the impossible schedule. Whenever he came down off of them, he was horrible. I tried to encourage him to get help, but that resulted in his total humiliation of me in public. I had to walk away. It hurt like hell. I'd thought he was the _one—_I really did."

"Okay, so you got your heart broken. Who hasn't?" Joe said it as though it was a run of the mill occurrence.

"Next came Mike—a law student who'd transferred into my law school at the beginning of our third year. I picked myself up after Craig and forced myself to be open to love again. We just seemed to be perfect for one another. We had the same goals, the same dreams and a lot of the same interests. After fourteen months together, we became engaged and were planning a wedding. The rings were bought, the cake was chosen. I had the dress, the church—everything."

I swallowed hard. "The invitations had been sent. He'd gone out for the bachelor party. It was a two days before our wedding. I didn't hear from him the next day. We were worried sick. We sent all of our friends out to search for him. His car was found in a lake about ten miles from my house. He'd gone off the road and drowned. We didn't know what the hell happened. His alcohol blood test showed he hadn't surpassed the legal limits. They thought he might have just fallen asleep at the wheel. Our wedding celebration turned into his funeral. It was a total nightmare."

Joe didn't say a word, so I continued, "I managed to go back and finish the last six months of law school. The FBI approached me, and I was so relieved to have a new and different direction to go in, because Mike and I were planning to set up our own practice in the future. I couldn't imagine trying to continue that dream without him."

"That must have been pretty awful," Joe conceded.

"It was. I thought it was the worst time in my life."

"You thought?" Joe repeated curiously.

"I got married. That was the worst, by far." I shook my head. My hands began to shake just thinking about it.

"I know you said you had differences."

"We were _so_ different. I didn't know what I was getting myself into."

"You must have loved him. You married him," his tone was skeptical.

"Don't remind me," I laughed sarcastically. "Stewart turned out to be the biggest liar ever! He was an agent for the FBI. I met him a year after I started with the Bureau. We worked a case together. He hounded me, until I said yes to drinks. I gave in, but my gut told me I shouldn't. I did the drinks and the dinners. He was charming, attentive, loving. Stupidly I let myself fall in love. We got married six months later. I thought I'd finally found the right guy—tall, dark haired, blue eyed, gorgeous, funny, smooth talking, and sexy as hell."

"So what happened?"

"It turned out he was sexy all right, and he shared it with every female he could get his hands on! In his mind he was James Bond with women in every corner of the earth. Hell, he didn't even have to go that far. He made it his hobby to fuck the other women at the Bureau too. He actually requested we never work together again—said it would be a conflict. Yeah, a conflict for his interest in cheating! He was having the time of his life, and I was having the worst time of mine. Why did he even bother to marry me?"

Joe's expression was continuing to soften.

"I found out I was pregnant just before I uncovered his infidelities. He'd been very active, that loser of mine. I was mortified. I was expecting his child and felt I had to try to make it work somehow.

I began to question myself—maybe it was me, maybe I wasn't good enough? I tried even harder to be everything he wanted—terrified to even let on I was pregnant. I waited until I began to show about four and half months into it."

"You hid your pregnancy from your _own_ husband?" Joe asked, as if he couldn't quite fathom it.

"I didn't want to tell him at all. He'd been making a lot of threats whenever I tried to confront him about his infidelity. I wanted to tell him about the baby, but the words just never came. He'd told me he wanted children many times before we married. I hoped he'd be happy once he got used to the whole idea. I got up the courage to tell him, but he wasn't happy. He was angry as hell."

"You told me _he_ wanted kids and _you_ didn't," Joe interrupted.

"It's very painful to talk about. Do you see how the truth has begun to mix with the lies, and I can't even tell the difference anymore. It was a pretty heavy subject to bring up over a first lunch with you. _I _wanted the kids. I love my huge family and wanted one of my own—desperately. He wanted a free fuck wherever he went and one to fill his needs when he wasn't out of town. I guess that made me special. I mean I was reserved for the rare occasions he stayed put."

"What happened to the baby?" he asked me, his eyes darkening slightly.

"I lost him. It was a little boy. I was in my sixth month of pregnancy. We were fighting all the time. He hated that I was pregnant—said it cramped his style. God forbid, anyone do that! I guess it wasn't meant to be."

I wiped my eyes, rehashing my past, as it all came swirling back.

"He'd gotten home after drinking too much, and God knows what else. I was asleep on the couch trying to wait up for him. Why? I don't know. We started to fight about his late hours, his drinking and his womanizing. One of his damned whores had showed the audacity to call our house earlier looking for him. She'd bragged about how she was the love of his life. I told her we were married and expecting a child. She couldn't have cared less. Anyway, we were fighting about her, and all the other whores he'd bedded. I called him names, and he lashed out at me physically. I was taken by surprise and fell really hard against a glass coffee table. Bleeding started. They did a C-section, but it was too early. His lungs weren't developed enough. I lost him two days after he was born."

"I'm _very _sorry." Joe's voice was soft with sympathy.

"Me too." I gulped hard, remembering my little boy. "His name was Daniel Riley Sullivan. If that little boy had lived, my life would have gone in a very different direction." My lips quivered. "I'd wanted that child so damned much!"

It was never easy to talk about, and I couldn't help the tears that poured out of me whenever I thought of my lost baby. They never seemed to end.

"I wish you had told me the truth."

To my surprise, Joe got up and brought me a Kleenex. I took it and noticed his eyes were warmly compassionate. He _was _a good-hearted man, who never deserved the crap I'd pulled. He went back to sit down, and I swiped the tears with a tissue.

He waited. I took a deep cleansing breath and called on my little angel to help me to make things right.

"I buried my little boy and all my feelings. I wanted to die too. I wished I could crawl into his grave and hold him through eternity. There was nothing I craved more. I had my family. If it weren't for them, I'd have given up. I was so depressed and unhappy. Stu had the nerve to ask for another chance. I wanted to kill him for what he'd done. He was clueless to his responsibility. He told everyone it was an accident, and that I was just extra-clumsy being pregnant.

I divorced his sorry ass. I had every medical sexually transmitted disease test you could have and came out of it with something temporary and luckily curable.

The FBI was hounding me to come back, so I did. I dug both heels into the job. It was all I had left. I had to undergo therapy to be reinstated for duty. Can you imagine? Stu, got off scot free, and I was the one left talking to a shrink!"

"You needed it though. You'd gone through a lot." He said it without judgment.

"It helped some I guess, but now I wonder if I should have continued with it after what I've done to you and Stephanie. I really don't know who I am anymore."

"What happened after your baby died and you went back to work?" he asked kindly.

Luckily, my superiors got wind of all of Stu's philandering and found out he was billing things to the Bureau like jewelry, perfume and dinners that had nothing to do with his job. He was demoted and quickly transferred to a remote part of Russia. That was a happy day for me."

Joe pursed his lips, nodding in agreement.

"About a year and a half after that, Ranger came into the picture. I wasn't looking—believe me. Relationships were the furthest thing from my mind. But we were thrown together by the job. He was sweet to me, with that dry sense of humor of his. Those endearingly annoying, stringent habits of his made an impression of some kind." I shook my head wondering for the millionth time why I'd ever let Ranger get to me.

"Ranger sweet?" Joe snorted derisively

"Oh no! Not at first. He was the most pompous son of a bitch I'd ever laid eyes on! In those beginning days, all I wanted was to throw him out a twentieth story window and kick him till he cried."

"Now _that I'd pay to see_," Joe commiserated.

"We were assigned to bring down this murderous deranged maniac, who was visiting from a third world country. Ranger knew all about him and had a history with him, so the FBI called Ranger in and partnered us. They thought it would good for us to pose as our target's friendly married neighbors. We shared a high-rise apartment and pretended we were—everything we weren't."

Joe raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"We knew his weakness with women was redheads, so I was being used as the bait. We expected him to make a move on me. I would play along, drug his wine and try to get some information out of him when he was groggy and unguarded."

I took a breath. "We had the monster over for dinner several times, but somehow he'd always excuse himself and foil every plan we attempted. He never made a move on me, and I suspect it was because he was afraid of Ranger. Not only that, he eluded us constantly. He was so chameleon-like both Ranger and I were pissed when we lost his trail several times. Neither of us was used to being outsmarted. It only added to the tension between us. I'd harass Ranger about my disappointment in him. After all he was supposed to be the best. He'd glare at me, and I'd smile happily, egging him on. We couldn't stand each other!"

"And Ranger?"

"He gave as good as he got—always giving me looks over what I ate, how I dressed, what shows I liked or music I played. He would comment negatively and ever so briefly on my taste in everything. I hated how stoic and unreadable he was. He wasn't even the least bit friendly. He didn't make an effort to ever smile. It drove me up the wall. Being a redheaded, Irish girl, used to openly emotional communications and extremely temperamental to boot, I let him have it on more than one occasion. When I did, he'd re-act the opposite of what I'd expected by laughing his friggin' head off."

"Doesn't surprise me," Joe muttered.

"It intrigued and irritated the hell out of me at the same time. No one has ever pissed me off more."

He nodded knowingly, "I know the feeling."

I shook my head, remembering it so vividly. "After that, things were even more intense between us. It was a physical tension, because I found myself wanting his touch and wanting to get into this head. I'd catch him looking at me sometimes too, but his face would quickly return to a mask. He totally enthralled me and made me feel off center at the same time. Believe me, I knew the attraction to him made no sense at all."

"Oh, I believe you," Joe chipped in dryly.

"We were frustrated, because we'd gotten almost nowhere on the case. So we took a much-needed night off. He took me to a little Cuban place that was hidden away. It was really romantic. We shared a bottle and a half of wine and had before and after dinner drinks. The alcohol loosened him up, and he became so much more fun—almost human. His stories and his dry sense of humor had me in stitches. I felt things for him I'd never expected to feel again for anyone."

"But you did."

"We were both in a different dimension by the time we got back to our place. Things went, as you would expect. We became lovers and that went on for two years. We'd get together every chance we could. He'd fly to Boston. I'd fly to Trenton. We'd meet half way around the world in between wherever I was. We never fought. We never talked about having anything deeper or long lasting, but I had hope."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course you did."

I went on. "I realized after being with him a short time, he was the _one_. Of every man I'd ever met, he was the best. He was sweet and caring and considerate. We had fun. I'd never felt so free to be myself with anyone. It was easier in some ways than I imagined it could be. He knew how to make me happy. It felt like it was the _first_ for me. I'd never experienced it like that with another man. Unfortunately, he obviously wasn't in love at all. I'd thought he was. In fact, I could've sworn he was."

Joe's face reflected an array of emotions while I spoke. I could tell he hated hearing the effect Ranger had on women. I knew he must have been thinking of Stephanie and why she'd been so drawn to Ranger. He was getting his answers, but I knew they weren't making him happy.

"What did you do when he stopped calling?" he asked curiously.

"Nothing. I'd had my share of broken heartedness. I figured it was over for him. I had no choice, so I moved on. Only I didn't really. I decided I was done with love. From that moment on, it would just be me. Alone. That was my new mantra. I'd do it _all_ alone. I didn't need a fucking man to complicate my life any more."

"Oh?"

"I decided my existence and my job were easier without the obstacle of a relationship. I wanted another baby. I planned on conceiving one in a clinical setting. But this damned job and my own fears stopped me from following it through."

Joe looked startled at my confession.

"I'd loved Ranger, so deeply. I wanted it to be _his _baby, so I couldn't go through with it_._ I needed _him_ so much. He was the love of my life. _No one_ ever meant to me what he had. I didn't want to go through any more pain. So I cut off all the emotional attachments, except for my immediate family."

"After everything you've been through I can see why," he nodded slightly, his tone was comforting and I felt more guilt. I didn't deserve his generosity.

"Until I met you, I hadn't had anyone come along that even remotely changed that resolve in my mind."

Joe shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The smile faded.

"I'm not trying to make another pass at you. I'm just letting you know what my life was like before I came here to do this God-forsaken job."

He exhaled and nodded.

"I worked with Ranger twice more after he unceremoniously dumped me. It was hell. He never even acknowledged we'd been anything to one another—not a glint in his eyes—not a word. I was still getting over him. Trying to do it without closure was hell. No, "_Gee Meghan I really enjoyed our time together. Too_ _bad it didn't last_." NOTHING!"

"Uh-huh." Once again, Joe didn't look surprised.

"He treated me like one of the guys. I could've been a complete stranger to him. It hurt horribly. I never had the guts to tell him. I couldn't stand to be rejected all over again. Then he called me to come here. He asked me to do this stupid assignment, and I foolishly agreed. Can you believe how fucking stupid I was? I didn't see what was right in front of my face? I still felt something. So much so, I didn't even consider, saying no."

"People do and say dumb things when they're in love," Joe commented as if he'd had some practice.

"How did you stand it? Didn't you want to obliterate him from her mind and her heart? I bet you wanted to kill him sometimes?"

"I'm no saint. Of course I wanted to hunt him down and choke his poaching neck. I realized though, and you need to as well, that nothing could have happened with them if Stephanie hadn't wanted it to. No matter what Ranger did, he couldn't have gotten her to be with him, unless she'd wanted it too. Ranger wanted Stephanie. Stephanie wanted him. I hated it. Just like you hate Steph, and probably Ranger too, but what good will it do you?"

His eyes narrowed. "That's why I broke everything off with her. I had to let her go—just the way you had no choice and had to let him go. That's why you didn't fight it. You knew it was useless to try."

"How did you do it? You love her so damned much?"

"That's how I did it. I do love her. I wanted her to have what and who made her the happiest. I thought it was him. Turns out it was me. Am I a lucky bastard or what?"

"You're both very lucky."

"You do what you've got to do. I needed her to know that I wanted more. I let her go, so she would have what she needed. That's the only thing I could think to do, but that was dumb."

"I've done worse than dumb things, I've been cruel. I never wanted to hurt you. I never really wanted to hurt Stephanie either. Maybe it's Ranger I was trying to get back at. I don't know who I am anymore inside. I'm not who I was. I used to be so uncomplicated. I knew myself so well. If someone asked me would I ever seek to undermine the relationship of a loving couple, I'd vehemently deny it was possible. But look at what I've done."

I looked at him beseechingly. "Joe, with all my heart _I am sorry_. I know you'll probably never forgive what I did. And you shouldn't. I think it hurt me to be around Stephanie. It was hard to see how deeply she affected both you and Ranger. I'm pretty damned sure it was because of her that Ranger stopped our affair, and it blew me out of the water. No excuses, I promise you. This is the truth— plain and sordid as it is."

"It makes sense now." Joe shifted in his chair looking out the window to the backyard. "No Kate, I don't forgive you. The damage to my relationship with Stephanie could have far-reaching repercussions I may never have the chance to fix. Do you have _any_ idea what it feels like to be so cut off from Stephanie, to be reduced to fucking phone calls once a day? Now to know her heart is probably tortured in doubt too kills me. I don't get to see her or hold her in my arms and tell her what happened in person. And you caused every bit of it!"

"I know. I'll find a way to let her know it was all me. She won't blame you for anything when I'm through, I promi—"

"You stay the fuck away from her! Do you understand me? Whatever you do will only make this worse. You let me handle this. What if I don't get a chance to handle it? What if she never knows for sure if I cheated or not? What the fuck Kate!" His eyes were black storms of accusation.

"I'm so sorry. I don't know how many ways I can say it to make you believe me! I'd do anything to take it all back. I'm a romantic at heart. I had nothing but love for people in love my whole life! It's all I ever wanted. What I did—it isn't who I am! I swear that to you!"

Tears were flooding my face. "I want you to have that chance with Stephanie. I want it to be perfect for you both. I want to see the two of you survive this whole fucking thing! I want to see you married and living happily ever after, because it's what you both deserve," I sniffled. "Someone has to get a happily ever after!"

"It might not be Stephanie and me," he said, through grinding teeth, exiting the room without another word.

I stood there crying, wallowing in the damned pain. Pain I'd endured, and pain I'd caused. I wanted to run from it. Sometimes it hurt so fucking much! Somehow I had to undo this mess I'd made.

**Joe's POV**

Do I tell her, or do I wait? I didn't fucking want to discuss this over the phone. I knew it would only end badly, and if it did, that would be it. I wouldn't even have a good last memory of us. I hated what Kate had done, but at least some of it made a little more sense. Not that I'd ever find an ounce of forgiveness! But the pain in her eyes was real. I knew enough about an aching heart to know that.

I also felt bad for her, and the devastation she felt over the loss of her baby boy. I knew it was something she'd have to live with for her entire life. She hadn't deserved it, and it made me sad. No one should ever have to have heartbreak like that. She'd gone through a lot, and I could understand her a little more.

Her eyes had reflected love as she spoke of Ranger. I'd seen that kind of love for him in Stephanie's eyes too. Son of a bitch! Poor girl—she'd been just another victim of Ranger's unemotional detachment.

The phone rang three times. I wondered if Steph was struggling with whether to talk to me or not every time I called?

"Joe." She was slightly out of breath, but seemed eager as ever to hear my voice.

"Hey Cupcake."

"Hi. Sorry, I was just getting home. I'll go out on the balcony. Hold on."

I waited, tapping my fingers on the grey stone divider in the back yard. The mid March air was nippy, but it felt refreshing after the stifling feeling inside the house.

"Okay, I'm here. How are you doing?"

"Terrible," I confessed with a weary smile.

"It's getting too damned close," she agreed sadly.

"I miss you so much."

"I miss you too—more than I'd miss cake," she grinned right through to my ear.

"Wow! That's a lot!"

"You bet your sweet best ass in Trenton it is! How are you really Morelli?" She always knew how to cut through the bullshit.

"Hey, I'm okay. You can stop worrying about me."

"That's like asking me to stop breathing."

"Well, I'd never want you to do that."

"I know," her voice broke, "that's why you're doing _this_, and as much as I love you for it, I hate it."

"Just as long as you love me," I asked, testing the waters. _Do I ask her or tell her or what?_

_Shit!_

"I love you. You're everything to me. Don't you ever forget it."

Guilt by the tons fell on my disloyal head.

"I won't. Not ever. I promise."

I blew out the breath I was holding. It had to wait. There was no way in hell to tell her and ask for forgiveness. I couldn't risk losing her love over this damned phone.

"Only two more days to talk," she reminded me needlessly.

"I know."

Silence.

I heard the strangled gasp of breath at the other end of the line.

"I guess we'd better work on mental telepathy," I said, surprising myself.

"Really, how do we do that?" she asked, perking up a bit.

"Well, I think something, and you guess what it is." I was totally improvising.

"Okay. Are you thinking?"

"Yup."

"Joseph Anthony Morelli, I told you I'd never do that!" she scolded fondly.

"How the hell did you know?" I asked, my eyes bugging. She actually picked it up! I wondered sometimes if she had a gift, because she'd zeroed in on me and on a lot of our crazy shared cases all the time.

"Doesn't take ESP to hone in on you, you nut." I could feel the warmth of her smile.

"Then you and I should be able to talk without the damned phones," I said, clearing my throat. "I'll think of you every night at nine o'clock on the nose, and you be paying attention, because I'll send you a nightly message."

"I just bet you will—no doubt x-rated," she said, playfully disgusted.

"I was thinking more on the romantic side of things for a change."

"You were?" she asked, surprised.

"Yeah, and don't you _ever_ tell anyone!"

"Your secrets are safe, don't worry. As long as your messages end in "I love you", I bet I'll pick them up just fine," she assured me.

"I have faith that you will, Cupcake, because every time I think of you, it never ends with anything but love."

"This is a ninety on the scale of mush, Morelli!"

"I know. I have no doubt we'll get to a hundred in the next two days."

"Maybe even a hundred and twenty," she agreed. I noticed her teary voice catching.

The next day passed fast. I had to get all my cases lined up for other people to take them over. Kate and I'd formed a tentative truce and even shared a meal in neutral silence. I'd gotten a glimpse into her very sad life. She'd shown me she regretted her actions. I didn't want to be mad at anyone anymore. Anger was a waste of time. It stopped as much progress in your life as fear, sorrow and regret did. But forgiveness was eons away. That I couldn't do.

We'd done the dishes, and I'd asked her about the stain on the wall. She'd explained it came from anger at herself, assuring me she'd have it painted over. Seemed she tried to clean it, but the paint was not the washable kind. Who puts that kind of paint in a kitchen? I would be glad to leave this house behind. It would never have been my choice.

We sat together—Kate reading a book and me doing a bunch of shitty paperwork. Time passed, and just as I was about to go out to the backyard to call Steph, Kate's cell phone went off.

I watched her pick it up and surmised by the strained look on Kate's face and overhearing her end of the conversation, it was Ranger.

"What do you mean tomorrow? Why?" I heard her voice rise.

"Shit! You couldn't find another judge?"

"This sucks. He thought he had another day," I heard her reluctantly, accepting voice.

"Fine, I'll tell him." She hung up, and her eyes held mine. "It's been moved up to tomorrow."

"What? Why?" I felt panic rising. That meant I had this one night and that was it!

"The judge on this covert plan of ours has to go home to his parents. His dad has some health issues. He has to leave to make a doctor's consultation on Friday. They're going to arrest you tomorrow at lunchtime. I'm so sorry."

"One day or two—what's the difference? The sooner I go in, the sooner it's over." I blew out the disappointment and the dread.

"Do you have a lot of time left on your phones?" she asked, knowing I'd thought of a way to stay in touch with my Stephanie.

"No, we have maybe an hour and a half."

"I'll leave you to make that call."

She got up and came over to me. I didn't know what the hell to expect and was shocked when she kissed my cheek.

"I want you to have more time. I _really_ do." Her eyes were filled with teary regret. She turned and walked away.

"Me too," I whispered.

I went to the backyard, taking Bob with me for comfort. Talk about the worst moment of my life. I needed an old friend to see me through, even if he was slobbery and furry. Bob lay down by my feet, placing one paw sadly over his face. He knew something was up.

"Joe, It's later than usual," she said, still sounding happy to hear my voice.

"I know. Sorry." _Little did she know how late._

"It's okay. I was afraid you wouldn't call at all."

Steeling myself for her reaction, I tried to find the words to tell her this was our last call.

"What's wrong?"

"Cupcake, things have been moved up."

"Moved up? You only had two more days."

"Yeah—well now we're down to zero."

"Oh my God! Why?"

"The judge has a sick father or something—some kind of meeting with his doctor Friday, so he has to do it tomorrow. I'll be arrested at lunch time."

Silence.

Her strangled effort not to cry filled my ear. It made my eyes burn. I swallowed hard while I gave her time digest it.

"No," she uttered, her voice edged in tears.

"It's all good Steph. We're finally getting to it. Just think, I'll be in there, do my job and out before you can get used to missing me," I tried valiantly to comfort her.

"I _already_ miss you," My brave, feisty girl was falling to pieces. I couldn't hold her or kiss her or look into her tear filled eyes to reassure her.

"I miss you too."

More Silence.

I knew we were both trying to get past the fact this might be it. How do you say goodbye, not knowing if you'll ever be saying hello again?

"I can't say it, Joe. Don't expect me to."

"I don't. We don't ever have to say it."

"What do we do?" she asked, hoping I'd have an answer.

"We let the phones run out. We talk and listen to each other until they stop."

I heard her sniffles. She was having a hell of a time holding it together.

"There's so much I want to say to you, but I can barely talk." I felt her tears without seeing them.

"I know. Me too." What would take her pain away?

"Thank you," she managed, "for always being there for me, and for loving me so unconditionally. Even when I drove you crazy with worry and pain." Her choking sobs speared my heart.

"Cupcake, you've brought me nothing but excitement. You make me really happy, Stephanie—happier than I'd ever hoped to be. You made Mr. Happy pretty darned thrilled too," I added trying desperately to make some attempt at lightness.

"You and your one-tracked mind." I heard her stifle another sob.

"You love it. Admit it."

"Everything about you." She seemed to have a better grip on things, and it gave me relief.

"Me too. I wish we hadn't wasted so much time."

"It was _all_ my fault." Back to crying. _Stupid move Joe._

"No, it wasn't! It was mine. I should have NEVER told you not to change my curtains or that cookie jars were useless. I want new curtains and a damned cookie jar! What fool eats them out of a package?"

She laughed. _Thank you, I needed to hear that._

"You better watch out. I may have your entire house redecorated by the time you get out."

"I wouldn't mind one bit. You have carte blanche as soon as you move in."

"I want to move in now, so I can feel closer to you."

"I want that too, Cupcake, but you can't go anywhere near it. You know why."

"I know."

"Where are you?"

"Sitting in _your _chair. I don't care, Joe. This is the _last _call we get. I want to feel like your arms are around me." She gulped back the big flood coming over her.

"They are. Don't you feel them?"

"Yes."

"Close your eyes—keep them closed," I admonished knowing she always liked to peek.

"How did you—?"

"How do I always? I know you inside and out. Now keep them closed," I ordered smiling.

"Okay, bossy."

"I'm kissing your eyelids—first the left, then the right. Do you feel my lips?"

"Yes."

"Good, and now I'm kissing the tip of that curious spidey nose of yours."

"I feel it," she assured me, falling into the moment.

"Kissing first the right earlobe, then the left."

"Why in that order? You kissed my eyelids the other way."

"Is this my phone kissing or yours?" I asked challengingly.

"I prefer to think of it as ours."

"Shut up and let me kiss you."

"Okay."

"My lips are moving to the hollow of your neck where the shivers are born, as you've always told me."

"I'm shaking in my boots, Morelli."

"Good, I want to rock your world."

"You do. You always have."

"My lips are teasing yours now, which means you _have_ to shut up, except for the whispers of what's coming soon, and what we're going to do to one another to make the neck shivers pale in comparison."

"Just kiss me already!"

"And you call me bossy," I teased. The acid churning in my stomach was contradicting all the lightheartedness we'd pretended.

"Do you feel my lips on yours?"

I could hear the ugly cry break out. Her face was more than likely scrunched up with tears swooshing in rapid fire down her cheeks. I'd seen it enough to recognize it—even over the phone. I could picture her desolate face, and it broke my heart.

"Do you feel my lips?" I repeated, willing her to feel their comfort.

"Yeah."

"I love you so much! You're the most beautiful, sexy, fun, loving, insanely perfect woman in the world for me."

Deep silence.

Followed by loud, hard sobs. She took a deep breath, and I could hear the wheels spinning before she even spoke.

"Joe, let's run away. We can go now—tonight. Just come here and get me. I don't care if we have to hide forever!" Her teary hiccups interrupted her pleading words.

"We can't. That isn't a life. It's not good for you. I won't do that to you. We've been over this; we wouldn't be happy. Please don't ask me again."

"I would be happy as long as I was with you," she said beseechingly.

"Steph, I'm not coming. We're wasting valuable seconds talking about it."

"How much time do you have left on your phone?" she asked, giving up the fight dejectedly.

"Not enough."

_Never enough_.

"Three minutes."

"I only have two," she whispered despondently.

Two minutes left to say what? Oh God, I didn't know what the hell to do or say!

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"You're the love of my life, Stephanie—forever."

"You're the love of mine too."

"At least we finally agree on something," I teased.

"It took too long."

"Sure as hell did."

"Joe, _please_ take care of yourself and come back to me," she croaked it out, because tears were overcoming her voice.

"I want to—more than you know, Cupcake."

"Then it will happen, and when you do—"

"Marry me!" I shouted it out desperately.

Why hadn't I asked her sooner? God! Was my life doomed to miss out on what I needed and wanted most! The damned tears I'd been trying to hold back during my whole existence escaped. I realized what I should've said right from the beginning.

I waited for her answer.

"Stephanie?"

"Cupcake?"

Dead silence.


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

Not my characters. No profit.

Carol thanks so much for your wisdom. I value your help more than you know! You are such a blessing!

Thank you to everyone for reading and reviewing it's really nice to hear your reactions to the story.

There are some really wonderful Cupcake stories now. The latest one not to be missed is from Somewhere in Wonderland called "Forever There."

Steph's POV

I squeezed the phone so hard my hand cramped trying to get more juice out of it. NO—that couldn't be the end!

_Please God one more minute!_

"MORELLI!" I screamed, willing the connection to come back on.

No answer.

"Joe," I begged hoarsely.

Nothing

Tears started up all over again as desperation to hear his voice one last time enveloped every part of me.

Shit!

No!

_Oh my God. That was it._

His last word to me had been sadly appropriate.

"_Cupcake_."

The sweet, lovingly chosen nickname he'd given me long ago. Hearing it had always invoked a myriad of memories. That one endearment had held so many of his emotions and feelings toward me throughout our years together—passion, teasing repartee, frustration, sadness, joy, laughter, disappointment, concern, anger, resignation, blissful mind-blowing happiness and deep unconditional love.

What if that had been the last time I'd ever hear him say it?

The sobs launched silently in my stomach and worked their way up, surging into my aching throat and escaping in broken wails from my mouth. My chest hurt with the feelings of finality. I'd just said goodbye to the man I loved more than life. Only I couldn't even say it. I could barely say anything! My heart was filled with _so much _I wanted to convey to him, but trying to express it in words was impossible.

The thought of _never_ hearing his low, sexy whispers of passion, or never having the pleasure to enjoy his wisecracking, dry humor and sharing a smile or laughter _ever_ again was unimaginable.

I wanted to throw the phone I was still clutching to my breast. It was all I could do not to find him, take him in my arms and order him _never_ to leave me. I couldn't allow anything bad to happen to him! I needed MORE time, so I could make it the way it should have been for us from the beginning. He was my perfect partner, the one who knew me inside and out and loved me so flawlessly. My magical man that brought me the most beautiful slice of life I'd ever known.

Why had it taken me so damned long to see what my heart knew when I was just a little girl. It was _always_ going to be Joe. It was never supposed to have been Dickie or Ranger.

_Only Joe._

We were destined to be together

His tough, wiseass exterior held a heart of pure gold. He was my treasure. I'd gone off the deep end looking for fool's gold when I'd had the genuine article right in front of my eyes all along. The man was made for me.

Tears gushed as I grasped the horrible facts.

I might never see him again.

We might never get married.

There might never be any children.

Oh my God!

How many times had I resisted the mere thought of those things? Had I done it so damned much that I'd actually pushed it away from ever happening?

Lately I'd felt sad I'd been so opposed to having a family with him. The future images of little Joe/Stephanie amalgamations filling our arms and our lives were occurring more and more frequently. I wished with all my heart I'd conceived the last time we'd made love. Then I'd have a beautiful reminder of him with me always— no matter what happened. Seeing him in the sparkle of my little one's eyes or smile would have been so comforting. Most importantly a part of him would've live on.

The idea of him never walking through that door with a Pino's Pizza and a six-pack of beer was heart-rending.

He'd stayed so damn strong through our last conversation. I knew he had to have been reeling over it as much as I was. He'd tried so hard to make me laugh and smile, but who was going to make him laugh and smile now? I should've been stronger and not so wimpy! _Damn it!_ I could've done better. I could've done _everything _so much better if only I'd seen what I was doing to myself and to us. We might've already been married and happily living together, far removed from all this tension, intrigue and drama.

Joe's POV

I'd asked her to marry me. Had she even heard it? What would she have said if the fucking phones hadn't died?

I hated it when Stephanie cried. I hated thinking of her alone in her apartment, the deafening quiet driving her nuts and the only interruption being the scraping of Rex's wheel.

I pulled out my cell before I could change my mind. It could be a stupid move, but it was the only solution I could think of. I sent a text to Frank. Thank God he'd at least joined the 21st century that year and gotten himself a cell phone. He'd had to because of the cab calls he still received. I remembered trying to help him program in numbers and how increasingly red his face had gotten as he'd tried and tried to learn how to use the damn thing. I'd heard swear words I was surprised he even knew. I could only hope he'd gotten better at maneuvering the phone since then.

My message was simple. As long as his cell phone was turned on, we'd be in business.

_Go to her now. It's happening sooner. Tell her I love her._

I waited; needing a drink so bad I could taste it. But I couldn't afford to have a cloudy head tomorrow. Instead, I had to put on the best performance of my life. The Pino's arrest was going to be surreal. That place had always been a lot of fun for Steph and me. It was our go-to haunt to unwind after a long day, there among a sea of friendly familiar faces.

Now it would forever be remembered as the place of my downfall. Would I ever feel the same way walking in there again? The bigger question was _would_ I ever walk in there again?

My phone buzzed.

_I'm on it. Good luck son._

_Thank God! Now I could breathe knowing she wasn't going to be alone._

I sat down on the easy chair I'd been in earlier when Kate and I had talked. Hopefully she was doing all right. This had to be hard for her too. She was facing as much uncertainty as I was, while dealing with an overload of sad memories to boot.

Sitting there, I pulled a crumpled, folded piece of paper out of my pocket. It was a copy of the letter I'd written to Stephanie. I prayed to God she'd never have to read it but if she did, I hoped it would give her what she needed to forge ahead without me. It wasn't flowery or poetic. It was just my heart speaking to hers. I wanted her to be able to hear my voice as she read it.

_**Cupcake,**_

_**This really sucks doesn't it?**_ _**I guess if you're reading this, things didn't work out in our favor and the good guys lost one. I'm sorry, more than you know. I never wanted to bring this kind of pain to you.**_

_**I know.**_ _**I can hear you saying it.**_ _**I'm a clod and the scum of the earth to have left you like this.**_

_**We never know when our time is going to be up. So making the most of whatever time you have left is what's most important.**_

_**You may have always thought that in my book hot, passionate sex was most important. Well, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't close to the top. You fulfilled my needs in that department so perfectly. I was one lucky son of a bitch!**_

_**I just want you to know you're at the top of my most important list.**_ _**You gave of yourself to me so completely, and you did so much more than that.**_ _**You did too. Don't argue. You know I'm going to win this one.**_

_**Stop saying no. You did enough and then some.**_

_**You're everything to me too.**_ _**The time I had with you was heaven on earth. Your smile lit up my life every time I saw it. Your heart is so incredibly and irresistibly beautiful. Let yourself find happiness again Stephanie.**_

_**Live, Laugh, Love.**_

_**Don't dwell in the past. I'm not saying forget me. I'm too much of a selfish bastard to ever want that. Remember me with a smile and a roll of your gorgeous blue eyes. I hope you have enough great memories as I do to fill the emptiness of our separation.**_

_**Maybe we didn't get it right all the time. But we got it pretty goddamned close at the end. You are and will always be the love of my life.**_

_**That said, Cupcake if you wallow in grief for me and waste one fucking moment, I've given orders to both Mary Lou and Eddie to kick your ass! I know how much you deserve to have everything you ever dreamed of come true. I want that for you more than anything. It will give me peace to know you've found it. I want you to be HAPPY! Always keep being sassy, feisty and stubborn. Those are the things I love about you the most.**_

_**Above all, even as shittin' jealous of him as I feel writing this, I want you to find someone who will love all those amazing qualities I've been privileged to love for my entire life.**_

_**What I left for you in this box is not meant to upset you. It's to make you see you made all of my dreams come true. I wish I could've given them to you myself. I want you to know YOU were my only choice, the ONLY woman I would ever have married. The only one I wanted to call my wife—ever. In my heart, we were married. The only regret I have is I never got to ask you. I prayed that if I had, you would have said yes.**_

_**I hope I've taken enough of the fears you had away and your heart is open to trying again. When you do find someone new, stay open. Be yourself. Trust me. You're beautiful—inside and out.**_

_**Marriage is not meant to ground one another. It's meant to be an amazing adventure. It's a fucking risk to be sure. You just have to close your eyes and take that leap of faith and before you know it, you'll be flying—not solo, but with a partner who will be there to make sure you land safely and gently.**_

_**Don't be afraid, Cupcake. I'll always be in your heart, as you'll always be in mine—only a thought away.**_

_**Loving you and being loved by you was the greatest adventure of my life.**_

_**Forever,**_

_**Morelli**_

I shifted in the chair. Hopefully Frank was with her by now. She'd need him badly in the months to come. I knew she'd discovered some new and surprising things about her father. I was happy about that for both of them. Frank ran a lot deeper than anyone knew. That was part of his charm. No one would ever know anything he didn't want known.

I'd done everything that needed to be done.

Now it was just a waiting game; waiting first for the moment of my arrest and then my first day of imprisonment and then waiting to see what happened next every day after that.

Reading the damned letter again had started something within me I hadn't expected to feel. Instead of making me sadder, it'd made me fucking angry. Thinking of her—moving on with anyone else—constricted my heart and made me unable to breathe. I felt paralyzed. Then out of the blue, came a roaring tidal wave of determination. I wasn't going to let anything stop me from getting what I wanted. No one and nothing was ever going to come between us again! I felt this huge rush of strength settling inside of me. Fucking hell! If I had any say in what was coming, I was going to make goddamned sure Steph never had to read that letter!

_I _was supposed to be her husband as much as _she _was supposed to be my wife! If I had to move a fucking mountain to make it happen, by God I would!

Those bastards in jail were about to meet their worst nightmare!

Part of me had been worried, because the fight had kind of drained out of me lately. It never had so completely before, except when I first broke off things with Stephanie and had spiraled down into a listless drunken stupor. She'd brought me back then. The thought of losing her again was what was giving me the will to fight like mad.

The courage and tenacity I'd always had before was back—in spades.

Somehow through all the exhaustion, doubts, grief, and—yes—even fears, it had emerged triumphant. Now I could do what I had to do. I'd find the evidence to blow the gangs and the drug lords to smithereens.

Once I did, I'd go to that safety deposit box and burn every fucking letter I'd written, starting with the one to Stephanie. My life would be back in _my _hands and when it was, I'd race to Steph's side. I'd propose and she'd become my wife at last—faster than either of us could say, "I do".

She wouldn't ever drown in sadness again! Hearing her voice broken in desolation and those damned tears would be a thing of the past!

But first I'd do what had to be done.

BRING IT ON.

I was ready to fight to the death. There was NO question any longer that I'd be the victor. I had this! No one was better qualified and no one had a better reason for getting out of it alive. I couldn't wait to get to that prison and kick their sorry asses straight to hell!

Steph's POV

My cell phone rang. I couldn't hope it was Joe. I knew he'd never have taken the risk to call on a traceable phone. I almost let it go to voice mail, but something told me to at least check whom it was.

Looking at the caller ID, I surprised myself with a half-baked smile.

"Dad."

"Hey Jelly D. I was just out taking one of my regulars home, and I noticed your lights on? Are you up for some company?"

"Uh—"

"I just had a feeling you might need me."

"A feeling?"

"Yeah—could've been my vibrating cell phone and the text I got too. I can't be sure."

"He sent you a text." The smile made its way to my eyes.

"Yeah. Can I come up?"

"Sure."

I tried to wipe my eyes and pinch my cheeks so he wouldn't see my pale, tear-streaked face. He'd be uncomfortable having to deal with it. I had to warn him not to say too much. What did he know? He must know something if Joe had texted him.

I heard the elevator ding signaling my floor. Opening my door before he reached it, I rushed forward to warn him we would need to be discreet. He was holding a bag from my favorite ice cream shop. Sometimes Dad knew exactly what to do.

"Dad, we can't say much in my apartment," I whispered. I could see by the concern in his eyes he indeed had some idea of my latest conundrum.

"How about we go up to the roof? The stars are really bright tonight."

I smiled. Bringing up stargazing was his subtle way of comforting me as he had when I was a child. "A cold, crisp March evening and frozen ice cream—what could be better," I teased him.

Quickly grabbing my coat, Dad and I made our way silently to the roof. It felt good to breathe fresh air. And it felt great _not_ to be alone. We took a seat along one of the cement barricades dividing the tall furnace stacks.

He removed two containers from the bag with plastic spoons. I smiled, knowing they both held our favorite flavor—Jamocha Almond Fudge. He smiled back, but I could feel his anxiety.

"What did you tell Mom? She must be freaking out you left so late at night. I bet she'll have Carl and Big Dog out hunting for you in nothing flat."

"Are you kidding? She snores like a damned buzz saw. If not for that, you'd think she was dead."

We shared a knowing chuckle. Suddenly it died, both of us feeling the gravity of the moment.

"What do you know about this, Dad?"

"Not much. I know Joe is doing whatever this is mostly for you, and that you've known about it all along. You're quite the little actress." His eyes scolded me lovingly.

"I did know. I'm sorry. It was for his safety. I had no choice."

"He wouldn't say much. I know he's very concerned about you, because something's happening sooner. He asked me to come over, so here I am."

I put the spoon back in the container, suddenly losing my appetite. I started to cry again. Joe was always protecting and looking out for me. Someone needed to take care of him! I wanted to find a way to do that. I wanted to do whatever it took to bring him back to me safe and sound and sexy as ever. I was the freaking prototype for never knowing what you had till it was too late, which only made me cry harder.

"There now, Sugar—I know whatever this is, it's bad. I mean _really _bad, isn't it."

"Yeah, it is. Joe's going to be arrested tomorrow for all the crimes he's been accused of."

"But he's _not_ guilty, is he?"

"No. He'd _never _do those things."

"I didn't think so. Then why the arrest?"

"He's going into prison as a crooked cop. It's a top secret, undercover operation led by the FBI." I couldn't help exhibit pride in his amazing courage.

"He's doing this because there were some supposed threats coming from some undetectable confiscated cell phones seemingly directed toward me. He's on the warpath to figure out who's behind it and why. The criminals in prison are like uncontrollable, caged wild animals. They are using any means they can to continue with their despicable behavior behind bars. Joe's going in there to make it stop _and_ to protect me."

"Does his quickie marriage have something to do with this?"

"Yes. He did that to protect me too."

I put my hand over my heart, because every time I thought of the sacrifice Joe was willing to make for me, my chest zinged in pain.

"He's doing all this for me," I admitted, still barely able to comprehend it. "When the criminals in prison want someone to do something for them, they intimidate and threaten the loved ones closest to them. Joe didn't want me to be in more danger, so he married Kate to protect me too."

"Kate?"

"FBI."

My Dad was quiet as he took the information in. "God," he uttered under his breath.

"Yeah," my voice broke. "Daddy I might never see him again. Joe thought of a way for us to keep in touch through these last weeks. Tonight we talked on our untraceable phones until they died."

My voice crackled hoarsely, _"The fact is he could die_. I don't know if I'm ever going to see him again!"

I burst into my ugly tears—the ones Joe always denied were monster-ugly. I knew better. My face scrunched and my eyes squinted as my cheeks practically exploded with waterworks. Hard sobs always followed and invariably were punctuated with the crying hiccups syndrome that went on long after the tears had dried. I hated breaking down that much, and I knew my dad wasn't going to know what the heck to do with me.

But he did. He opened his arms wide, and I went right into them as though it was the most natural thing to do in the world. I was his little baby girl again.

"You've got a man in a zillion, Jelly D."

"I know." _Hiccup_

"So when he comes home, what're you going to do about it?"

"I'm going to marry him, if he'll have me. I'll spend the rest of my life treasuring him and showing him how much he means to me."

"It's LONG overdue," he agreed.

"How did you know about this?" I asked. My spidey senses had kicked in, even though they were partially drowned in saltwater.

"He was worried about you. I think he wanted to make sure you'd have someone in your corner if you needed it."

"He called you," I smiled—puffy face and all—because that was my Joe. He _always_ anticipated my needs.

"He did."

"But you said it was a text tonight?" _Hiccup_

"It was, but I saw him two nights ago at his house on Slater."

"You did? Why?"

He had some things he wanted me to see to if—"

"If _what_?" My voice held the alarm I felt instantly in my heart.

"If he needed me to," Dad said vaguely.

"Tell me."

"Now sweet one, I think I'm just supposed to follow through if need be. I'm not sure Joe wants me to divulge his confidences. I have to respect his wishes."

"Joe and I don't have secrets."

At least I was pretty sure we didn't. Kate and her little innuendos were always in the back of my head. No matter how hard I tried to shake them, they kept persistent residency there.

"I think he's just doing what he always does and is making sure you're protected."

"I don't want him to protect me. I want him to come home!"

"I know you do."

"What did he do? He's worried he won't make it back, isn't he? He's set something up for those of us who would be left behind."

I knew it without the slight shift in my father's expression, because I _knew_ Joe. He never forgot the details. It was part of his cop training. He wouldn't go into this without making sure there was nothing left undone or unsaid. I understood. It probably also stemmed from having the father he'd had. When Rocco had died, the entire Morelli family had been left with nothing but undone, unsaid things.

"Daddy, tell me what he did?"

"Nothing—" I could tell he was weakening.

"_Pleassse_."

"He wrote letters. And he said there would be things for you. He didn't want you to see them alone. He asked me to be there with you."

A soft cry escaped my throat.

"He trusted me to do that. It means a lot to me," he said, fondly.

"He likes and respects you Dad."

"Yeah, he told me I was like a father to him."

"He did?" I wanted to hug and kiss Joe forever for that. I thought my dad had always hoped for a son. Now he had one.

"Yup, and I told him he was a son to me too."

"Thank you, Daddy."

"It's the truth."

"He needed to hear it. I know he's pretty wounded from that sorry excuse for a father he had. It's pretty damned amazing he turned out the way he did."

My father nodded his agreement. "I really admire him. We're damned lucky he's part of our family."

"He took a bite of his ice-cream and eyeballed mine, motioning with his head for me to have some too.

I took a small bite. I was so damned grateful Joe had called my father. I really needed his strength and encouraging words.

"Look, Jelly D, a shooting star," Dad pointed toward the sky. "That's good luck, make a wish."

I did as he said. Closing my eyes, I made the most important wish of my life.

Joe's POV

Kate and I knew that while we were out the Feds and the TPD were going to come to the house with a search warrant. There would be a big production made of it, so the Burg's gossip chain would be roaring by the time the arrest occurred. There would probably be a nice sized audience to witness it.

I'd told Steph if she came anywhere near the place, I'd never be able to keep my eyes off of her, and the whole damn thing away would be given away. I knew she wanted to be there to try to support me. Knowing her and her usual inquisitive self, she'd want see what happened firsthand. I didn't want her there. It would be too damned hard to see the look in her eyes.

Kate walked up to me with another cup of coffee. I figured she had to be running on one hundred percent caffeine. I'd noticed she'd hardly eaten anything solid in the last couple of days.

"Are you okay?" she asked worriedly.

I lifted my cup in a toast. "Yep, I'm ready to rock and roll this thing. The sooner the better!"

Her eyes widened in surprise. "What happened? You haven't seemed this confident lately?"

"I'm _not_ dying, and _neither_ are you Kate. This is going to be just another job for us. And we're both going to come out of this fine! When we do, we're going to have the lives we deserve. Me with Stephanie, and you with someone who will make up for all the disappointments you've had."

"Why would you even care, or think I'd deserved that after what I've put you through?" she asked incredulously.

"I don't know. You're right; I should hate, your guts."

"But you don't?"

"I don't want to be angry. It's unproductive and destructive.

We're in this together so there isn't room for shit like that."

"You're right. I've been pretty angry ever since I got here."

"I know. You've had a lot to deal with. But it's not going to help you, and it won't bring Ranger back."

She nodded sadly. "I know. We have a job to do. That's why he called me. That's why I'm here. NO more personal bullshit!"

"That's the spirit," I grinned.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" she asked, genuinely puzzled.

"I understand you better. I'm working on the forgiveness part. I don't wish bad things for you. You've had enough of that crap."

"Thanks, Joe," her voice softened with emotion.

"My gut instinct about people is rarely wrong. I know there's a good-hearted woman underneath the shit you've been pulling. I'm ready to give you the benefit of the doubt and another chance. Don't make me regret it." I gave her a warning look.

"I won't. I really appreciate that," she said, seemingly grateful.

"We've got this Kate. You'll do a fantastic job on the outside, and with the Rangeman team, we'll kick ass on the inside. That's how it has to be."

"We've got it!" she agreed, matching my sentiment.

Two hours later, we were sitting at Pino's. My acid reflux was blasting at my throat. The anticipation for what was coming was hard to hide. We both made a sad attempt to play with our food. So much for the condemned man eating a hearty meal.

People had gawked at us as soon as we'd walked in. Our waitress, who'd probably waited on Stephanie and me a gazillion times, acted nervous and uncomfortable about even taking our order.

The uniformed officers, most of whom I knew, were leering at me when they thought I wasn't looking. I was observing everyone as if I was participating in a covert sting operation, and they were _my_ marks.

I was a little concerned there might be an individual or group vigilante out there looking to get justice for the wronged TPD. I didn't have my flack vest on, because I wasn't on duty, and it would seem strange for me to be wearing one. Kate didn't have one on either.

The last thing we needed was for one of us to get hit by a wildly stray bullet.

I tried to ignore the burgeoning feeling of foreboding. This was not going to be pretty—no matter how it all went down. I forced myself to focus on the mundane routine of small talk.

As I did, I heard loud whispers hidden behind what might as well have been transparent hands. They were busy scuttle butting about my quickie marriage and my treasonous behavior. I was being declared guilty until proven guiltier. At least our plan was working.

"So, Kate, you going to miss that tomb of a house we're living in?"

She shook her head reflectively. "Not a chance. I'm relieved that by tomorrow it'll be confiscated as evidence against you. I haven't had a decent night's sleep in that place since I moved in. I picked that house so it would be the antithesis of what you'd normally choose. I figured everyone would see the change in you, just by that alone."

"You don't like it then?"

"Hell no! That house is so _not _me. I live in a two-bedroom, two-bath, Cape Cod cottage. It's homey, and it's the colors of the sea—blue's, green's and beiges—very tranquil. I love it there. I miss it whenever I'm away."

"That's good. Then you won't mind the house on Slater Street so much," I said, realizing Kate's idea of home wasn't that much different than mine.

"Joe, I'll be fine there. No worries. It's all going to go without a hitch, just like you said." She forced a smile, trying to cover her concern, but I could see the tension on her face and the tension on her face and the anxiety in her eyes.

I tried making some more effort at small talk. "Bob will eat anything you put in front of him, and anything you don't put in front of him, as you know. But be careful he doesn't get into the raisins or fresh fruit. I don't have to tell you why, do I?"

"No, no I think I've become pretty familiar with good old Bob's eating and digestion habits." She shook her head. "Hopefully, he won't decide to eat me for lunch with his Master nowhere in sight."

"Nah," I assured her. "He's not a cannibal, at least not that I'm aware of."

She shot me an unappreciative look, as we shared a nervous laugh.

"Don't forget what I told you about the back door—"

"I remember. It sticks unless you pull up on the handle really hard."

"Good. That's right, and the window in the spare—"

"I know. It won't lock properly, and I it's scheduled to be fixed. The alarm system is to be installed tomorrow before I move in," she repeated verbatim, showing me my tripled instructions had not fallen on deaf ears.

"Right. I guess you've got it down."

"I do. Stop worrying about the house and me. You worry about you and—"

There was the sudden sound of multiple screeching brakes and the slamming of numerous car doors banging outside the restaurant.

The entrance to Pino's was rapidly filled as a huge brigade of law enforcement came barreling in—both FBI suits and uniformed officers—most of whom I'd worked with for years. Michaels was heading the posse, and Commissioner Brooks wasn't far behind, barking orders out like a damned pit bull.

News cameras followed them as if they were hungry dogs waiting to take a bite out of their unsuspecting victim.

The normally buzzing room became deadly silent. In their mad rush to get to me, they sent empty chairs flying into the air and then clattering to the floor. The clanging, metal racket blasted away the hushed silence as they landed in catawampus chaos.

The cops dining in our "getaway-from-it-all" place stood up instantaneously, brandishing their weapons as if they'd been put on red alert.

Innocent, shocked bystanders and longtime patrons scrunched nervously in their seats, afraid to move while longingly eyeing the exits.

Kate and I barely had time to exchange a here-we-go-look before it went down. I felt like I was the helpless prey in a grade B movie.

An FBI agent I'd never seen before came right up to our booth.

"Joe Morelli. FBI. "You're under arrest!"

He flashed his badge and grabbed me by my arm, pulling me up and out of the booth. He pulled both arms behind my back. I struggled like a lunatic, trying to shake them off and shouting out a slew of profanities. They pushed me toward the ground. It took three of them together to pin my body to the floor face down.

My cheek hit hard on the frigid tile. I could see the legs of uniformed officer approaching, and felt my arms being wrenched violently while the handcuffs were snapped on my wrists. I felt the cold metal restricting my hands. They put ankle irons on me too. That I hadn't been expecting. At least the TPD wasn't doing things half-assed.

I grunted hard as someone with law enforcement's steel-toed, regulation shoes kicked my side. Just how fucking far was this going to go? I might need the infirmary before I ever got behind bars. They seized me roughly, raising me onto my feet. I stumbled while struggling to walk with the chains, feeling nauseated and dizzy.

People started to shout. The sea of faces became an angry mob. I heard the coarse language coming at me, fast and furious. Making out a few of the worst ones, I inwardly cringed. Now I knew what my life would've been had I not straightened my hellion ways. My cheekbone was throbbing from where my face met the floor. The pain in my side wasn't subsiding much either.

A gigantic, ominously threatening heckler, who looked to be nearly three hundred pounds, pushed his way out of the crowd and past the police. He looked at me with raving, lunatic madness in his eyes. Giving me a disparaging once over, he spit at me. He pulled back a fist and punched at my face as hard as he could. My lip split and blood was splurting and running down my chin.

Kate's voice screamed wildly and threatened them all with lawsuits. She was acting the part of hysterical bride to perfection. It took four uniforms to restrain the jackass who'd attacked me. Kate reached out to me in horrified desperation. We knew it would be bad, but this had been way beyond our expectations.

A gunshot was fired, and people were screaming and diving under the tables. I was rushed out with a posse of police guarding me from every angle.

The cameramen beat us out there, and I could hear the news reporter shouting out his spiel for all the viewers to get the low down on the big bust at Pino's.

A massive crowd was congregating around the parking lot, and some of them were shouting angry obscenities. Others were chanting, "lock him up and throw away the fucking key!"

"TRAITOR!"

"Fucking PIG!

"Asshole."

"LOSER!"

Cameras were in my face, and pops of light kept going off as gazillions of photos were being taken. I snarled at them all and gave them a look that would send a message not to mess with me. Someone read my Miranda rights. It was surreal, seeing as I was usually the one reciting them to the arrested suspect.

My head was shoved down as I was practically hurled into a police car. People were hitting at the windows—screaming at me, pounding on the car and causing a mini riot. Policeman and plain clothes tried forcing them back in vein.

The only law enforcement in the car was Brooks, Michaels and Eddie Gazarra. I took a deep breath as beads of sweat covered my forehead.

"So sorry, Joe," Eddie said, shaking his head.

"That got way out of hand," Michaels agreed.

"No shit!" I concurred, gasping in pain. "I think I need a paramedic. I've been shot."

Steph's POV

I sat with my eyes glued to the television screen. I'd had no idea it would be televised, but Lula had called. Letting the machine pick it up, I'd only heard her hysterical ranting, "Oh my God, its on television. Officer Hottie's being arrested. Turn on the fucking TV now! Oh, my Lord! Oh, shit!"

My shaking hands could barely turn on the remote. My mouth gaped open as I realized the station wasn't local. It was CNN. I saw it all unfold before my eyes. Any intention of Joe's to protect me from witnessing it had been blown straight to hell.

Oh my God! They shoved him on the floor as he yelled at them to get the hell away from him. He was fighting it with every fiber of his being. I knew it was supposed to be make-believe, but it felt too damned real. It took three men to subdue him, and they cuffed him. People were shouting and screaming, and there were so many guns drawn on him, my stomach went to pure acid.

My whole body went into convulsive tremors. Ankle irons were put on him as though he was a savage beast. _What the fuck!_

He was wrenched cruelly to his feet, surrounded by the men who used to be his peers. My heart cracked in two, as I observed the most horrendous moment, barely believing it was true.

Tears were coursing down my cheeks witnessing his total humiliation. An angry throng was cursing him, and a giant-sized jackass came up and spit on him! I made a fist, ready to jump into the TV to pounce on the bastard's back, when I saw him sucker punch Joe as hard as he could.

I screamed out in terror. _God make it stop_!

I was jumping from one leg to the other, trying to control the hysteria rising in my throat.

The sound of gunfire stopped my heart cold. It beat again as I saw them rushing him out to the waiting van. As the camera zoomed in closer, I saw something I'd been praying desperately not to see.

"OH MY GOD! He's been shot!"


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Not my characters. No Profit.

Carol, This chapter would have been so different without you. Not in a good way! Your guidance and instincts have helped me more than you know. You always work your magic! I'm lucky to have such a friend.

Thanks to all of you who are still reading and reviewing. Getting to know you, and hearing your feelings and points of view about this story, is one of the best parts of writing it.

Just want to share there are some wonderful Cupcake stories out now. I'm, keeping my fingers crossed for Joe, in "The Choices We Make" by FoodBookLover. Other great stories: "Pineapple Proposal" "Collaboration" and "Figuring it Out," all by Animorphgirl. "Forever There" by Somewhere in Wonderland, "Plum of a Journey" by Knm2009, "Life and Times of Stephanie Plum" by Laura 17, "Dear Diary" by Casey's Aunt, "It's About Treachery" by Carol Blackhawk and her entire "It's About" series is not to be missed!

Joe's POV

"We got to get him to the hospital!"

Eddie's voice was unusually frantic. Taking off his uniform suit jacket, he placed it against the wound in my left side, applying pressure to stop the bleeding. I gave him a grateful, albeit grimacing nod.

Brooks craned his neck around from the front seat to look me over. "Shit! This ruins everything! How we going to get him into prison now? Fuck. We should have cleared the premises at Pino's."

"NO SHIT! You're the one who said we needed the public to witness it. An innocent bystander could have easily gotten killed. What happened to Joe is bad enough!"

Michaels took his eyes momentarily from the wheel as he glared at Brooks. "Your asinine orders caused this! He could be dead!" he barked heatedly. "I'll phone ahead to St. Francis and let them know we're coming. We can get a team over there to clear the area, so we can get Joe—"

"No!" I snapped, trying to breathe through the burning, throbbing pain. "I think it's a flesh wound. It felt like it grazed me. I'll live. Get someone to come to the precinct."

"Are you sure, Joe?" Eddie was visibly concerned. "There's a lot of blood."

"Yeah, I want to get into that fucking prison and get this damned thing over with!"

"You're not going anywhere near that prison until you're one hundred percent," Michaels argued.

"Well, if it's just a flesh wound, what's the big deal," Brooks said coldly. Clearly, it was no big deal to him. When had he gotten so damned obsessed with this mission?

Michaels growled back. "You listen to me, Brooks. This is MY best man. He isn't going into the tank in this condition! Those lunatic, killer sharks will smell his blood, and they'll be happy to finish the job. He's not putting his life on the line anymore than he already has. If you think I'm going to fuck around with you after what you just pulled—think again. I'll call Juniak myself!"

He allowed a moment for the threat to sink in. "Remember how important Morelli's safety was to him? What do you think he'll say when I tell him it was your lame-brained decision? He'll pull the plug on this so fast it will make your idiotic head spin. Don't _screw_ with me, because I promise you, it will come back to bite you in the ass!"

To my surprise, Brooks only slightly grumbled something back. I was grateful Michaels had finally used his balls to take a stand.

The truth was even if Juniak were upset I'd still be going into that prison. Those threats against Stephanie had to be stopped. I might not be able to end all the evil, criminal activity that was taking place, but I sure as hell could end the threats against her.

Thinking of her made my stomach ache. What if she saw what had happened at Pino's? There'd been news cameras all over the damned place! I could only imagine the hell she was enduring over me. She was probably chomping at the bit to get to my side. I wished I could see her face. Everything would hurt less if I could just look into her eyes.

"Can we undo the cuffs?" Eddie asked. His eyes were apologetically directed toward me.

"NO! We can't afford to let anyone see that this isn't on the up and up. I'm fine," I lied.

The pain was pretty much invading my whole body at that point. My cheekbones ached like crazy. My split lip was mushrooming out rapidly. As luck would have, it both of my sides had been hit—one with a boot and one with a bullet. I felt a big bump on the side of my head beginning to throb. That must've happened when I hit the floor. Truthfully, there wasn't much area above my waist that had been left unscathed.

"Shit this stinks!" Eddie said under his breath.

The van burned rubber as we arrived at the precinct. The press had beaten us there. I don't fucking know how. A menacing crowd of angrily insistent, justice-seekers had also formed. Luckily, a huge squad of uniformed armed officers was effectively holding them back.

They pulled the van up to the door of the precinct in order to shield me from spectators and rushed me inside. Kate wasn't far behind me. I knew the plan had been for her to be brought in as well under the guise of further questioning.

All I could think of was how Stephanie had probably seen or at least heard of what had happened by now. She had to be beside herself with anxiety. God, I wished again to see her face. It would have been the best possible medicine for me.

I was taken to our break room where there was a sofa. Eddie undid the ankle chains and the cuffs. Brooks glowered at him, but Eddie didn't give a shit. He gave Brooks a menacing look back in a rare show of steadfast rebellion. I was damned lucky to have such a friend.

Shaking out my arms a little, I tried to get back the circulation I'd lost from having my hands restrained behind my back. My legs felt like rubber. My ankles were bruised and scraped from the irons and chains. It felt good to have the freedom to move unrestricted. Of course with every motion, came more excruciating pain.

Eddie helped me to lie back some, still keeping my body elevated due to the profusely bleeding gunshot wound. Closing my eyes for a few seconds, I willed the pain to subside. I heard Kate scrounging through the fridge for an ice pack. She came up with a pound of uncooked, frozen hamburger still in the packaging. No doubt it had been left over from our precinct barbeque last summer. Wrapping a towel around it, she gently applied it to my swelling lip.

I waited until Eddie left to check on the paramedics' arrival time before speaking out of the good side of my mouth.

"Kate, I need you to do something for me."

"Anything you ask," she offered sympathetically, waiting for my request.

I lowered my voice to a hushed whisper. "I need someone to get word to Stephanie I'm okay. She's going to be worried sick even if she doesn't know I was shot."

"I'm on it. I promise I'll get it done."

"Thanks," I tried to smile, but it hurt too fucking much. I took the makeshift ice pack from her, holding it gingerly against my face, while she left to do my bidding. I don't know why, but something in me still trusted her. I believed she would do just about anything to make up for her past transgressions.

The paramedics arrived and went to work quickly in perfect synchronization. I was in good hands. I'd seen both of them in action many times at crime scenes. Both concurred there was no bullet to remove. It wasn't long before they had the bleeding stopped, and my flesh wound dressed. I had a good supply of pain medication on the way. I'd heal, but it would take some time. How much time worried me. Damn it! This hadn't been part of the plan at all!

I was able to lie down at last. Relaxing came easier knowing that soon Steph would be assured I was fine. I closed my eyes and pictured her beautiful face and those heart stopping blue eyes of hers, as I drifted off to sleep. My only wish was to keep seeing her in my dreams.

Kate's POV

I wanted to do whatever I could for Joe. There weren't many options left to me, considering how few people were in on this operation. I had no choice but to call Ranger. Asking him for anything grated on my nerves, but this wasn't for me. It was for Joe and Stephanie.

Dialing the buttons, I braced myself for the predictable, teeth gritting conversation ahead of me.

"What the hell happened? How's Morelli? Lester said it was a flesh wound."

_Does the idiot ever say hello? I wondered how the hell he even knew Joe had been shot and to what degree?_

"It was an accident. Things went crazy."

"Why didn't Brooks and Michaels clear the restaurant before the arrest?"

"I have no idea," I admitted. "I thought that would be the plan."

"What _do _you know? It's YOUR job to _know,_" Ranger decreed, dissatisfied with my responses.

Hanging up on him would have been so satisfying. If only I hadn't made that promise to Joe. Feeling I owed Stephanie for my previously cruel behavior, I stayed on the line. Hopefully, she would be comforted by Ranger's reassurances. Obviously she had grown to trust him, among other things.

_Down green-eyed jealously. _

Somehow I had to stop blaming Stephanie for what Carlos had done to me. It wasn't her fault. It had been his choice, and I had to learn to live with it.

"Who fired the gun?" he asked.

"It was a total fluke—a rookie cop with a skittish trigger finger. He broke down in tears on the scene and admitted it right away."

"Careless idiot."

"Yeah—poor Joe. He got a hell of a lot more than we bargained for today."

"He's surviving?"

"You know him. He's tough. This might push things back though. Michaels absolutely refuses to have him go into that prison without being in tiptop shape."

"I agree. That angry mob mentality is not good. He's in more danger than we realized."

"Yeah, I know. I called to ask you to do him a favor."

"What kind of favor?" Ranger's voice was stoic but curious.

"He's very worried about Stephanie and her reaction to what went down. Chances are good she saw it. He doesn't know if she's aware he was shot and wants to make sure she's clued-in to the fact he's fine.

Silence.

"Morelli asked you to get _me _to do this? He must be way worse off than you think. He'd have to be delirious to want me involved."

"No, he asked me to find _someone_. You're the best I could come up with."

"I doubt Morelli would appreciate your pick."

"That may be true. What about one of your men?"

"I'm three men short—remember?"

"Okay, then you?" I was ready to hit something. Why the hell couldn't Ranger do this one thing?

"Wait a minute. How _much _does Stephanie even know?"

"Everything. Joe had no intention of her being left out of any of it."

"How long has she been in on this?"

"Since before the wedding."

"Shit! She's going to be _pissed _at me," he said, more to himself than to me.

"Yeah, well, you'll live," I said, hardly caring. "Can you do it or not Ranger? I can try finding—"

"I'm on it."

"Good."

I wondered again if this was a mistake and hoped Joe wouldn't be angry with me. I honestly didn't know anyone else to call.

"Okay. I'll talk to you later," I finished.

No response. Apparently he wasn't wasting any time getting to Stephanie's side. No hellos _or_ goodbyes. True to form Carlos!

Steph's POV

I'd gone into the bathroom to wash my face, waiting anxiously for more reports on the news, but there'd been no additional information. Joe's arrest and the litany of his crimes were being played ad nauseam—pictures of his life flashed over the screen in quick succession. First his boyhood snapshots followed by High School and Police Academy graduation photos. The last shots were some of my favorites of him—his most recent precinct photo and a candid one of him at Pino's. How sadly ironic. Where in the world had they gotten them?

I considered calling the hospitals but what good would it do me? I wasn't his wife or considered family, so even if he were there, they'd tell me nothing. That hurt now more than ever. In the world's eyes I wasn't anything to him anymore. He was married. I couldn't even fib my way through by saying I was his fiancé. If I rushed to the hospital, they wouldn't let me anywhere near him. That was going to change the minute he got home. I'd tell him _permanent _was my new and only middle name!

I wanted to rush out to find out where they'd taken him, or how severely he was wounded. But what if they didn't want the public to know? I couldn't afford to jeopardize the plan whatever it was? I _hated_ knowing so little.

_Oh my God!_

But how would I stay away from him? I couldn't. I had to go to the precinct.

I'd seen him being led inside, but there hadn't been any close up shots. The van had been used to protect him from further harm. Thank God! The only thing I knew for certain was that he was alive. At least he had been when last I saw him. And I would know if he were dead. I'd sense such a huge emptiness the moment his essence left the earth—somehow I'd know.

_He was alive._

I went back out to the living room determined if I didn't hear something soon, I'd go search out my own answers. Screw the rules! My already jumpy stomach recoiled, as I found a tall dark form standing by the window in my living room.

"Fuck Ranger! Again? How many more years are you planning to take off my life?"

"Babe." His voice was soft and almost tentative.

"Are you here because—"

"He's fine. I'm here to tell you that. He wanted you to know he's okay."

"But he was shot. I saw blood all over him!"

"Flesh wound. He's already on the mend. The paramedics took care of him. He'll be fine."

All the air left me. The tension holding me together evaporated, as did my faux strength. Out of nowhere, an over-powering urge to puke came over me.

I raced to the bathroom throwing up every morsel of food I'd had that morning.

Joe's POV

Finally feeling some relief from the pain medication, I was anxious to ask Kate about Stephanie when she came through the door. She took one look at the stitches on my lip and exhaled the stress of the day.

"You got word to Stephanie?" I asked expectantly.

"Yes."

"Something in her tone and in her eyes alarmed me. Who went?"

She frowned guiltily. "Before you blow a gasket, remember you're injured. Bleeding any more would be bad."

"Ranger? You called him! Great!"

"Joe, I didn't have much choice."

"I know." I shook my head disgustedly.

"I'm sorry. If I could've gone myself, I would have, but me anywhere near her—"

I smirked in agreement. "You would have gotten an earful!"

She nodded. "She's a pretty tough cookie."

"She is," I agreed proudly.

"So have you heard what time your arraignment is?"

"In a couple of hours. I should be spending the night downstairs on a nice hard, narrow prison bed.

"I'm sorry. I bet you would love to be anywhere else."

"There's only one place I want to be. Unfortunately, Ranger's the one there."

Steph's POV

Rinsing with mouthwash, I made my way back to the bedroom where Ranger was waiting. That's when my legs totally gave out, and I started to go down.

He crossed the room to stop my imminent fall, giving me his arm. Half walking and half carrying me to the living room, he helped me to get settled on sofa while saying nothing. I mentally forced my head to stop spinning not even knowing why I was doing that badly.

He hurriedly went to the kitchen and came back with a moist cloth to place on the back of my neck. The coolness jolted me back into my body from the floating state in which I'd been.

"He's okay. It's all right Steph," he assured me caringly.

Instantaneous fury replaced the floating feeling. "How can you say that? How is any of this all right! Why the hell didn't you tell me you were involved?"

My eyes sparked with the betrayal I felt as I stood. It wasn't like Ranger to keep me out of the loop. He'd always brought me in on all the hush-hush schemes, trusting me to keep my mouth shut.

"I was asked to help with the security end of this. It's strictly an FBI covert operation. Only a select few know. I couldn't tell anyone."

"Well _I'm _one of the select few, thanks to Joe," I informed him with my hands on my hips authoritatively.

"Morelli's definitely got it bad. He breached a top-level security clearance. He wasn't supposed to tell you _anything_."

"Do you have any idea what it would have been like for me to hear Joe was marrying someone else?"

"I do. It was all done to protect you B—Stephanie. No one wanted you to be hurt, least of all me."

"I understand your motives, but you knowme. If Joe hadn't told me the truth, and I'd have found out about that marriage of his from a newspaper photo, I would have taken him out myself. Forget him ever making it to prison. And that freaking red haired hussy he married would've found herself completely bald! Joe knew he had to tell me for his own self-preservation!"

"That I don't doubt," Ranger agreed, shaking his head.

"Don't you _even_ try to keep another thing from me where he's concerned!"

"Understood."

Ranger eyes flickered with mock amusement.

Folding my arms belligerently in front of me, I continued, "Now give me the name of that madman whom spit in Joe's face. I'm going to hunt him down. He needs to know you don't mess with Stephanie Plum's man!"

"_No one_ can know he's _your_ man right now," he reminded me, slightly perturbed.

_Shit! _

"He won't know what or _who _hit him when I get done!"

"You're definitely a force to be reckoned with," he agreed, aggravatingly amused by me.

"You're damned right I am."

"He was over six-five. I think he has about a hundred and seventy pounds on you."

"So? When has that ever stopped me? Did you see the way he pounded Joe's face and spit on him as though he were trash? That lowlife jackass has lessons to learn!"

"And you're the one who's going to teach him? How? What's the plan?"

I scrunched my face in aggravation, feeling kind of pissed at Ranger for asking. I'd felt so much anger toward everyone in that mob who'd booed, heckled and called Joe horrible names. I'd have willingly paid all of them a personally livid visit.

"I don't know." I shrugged, hating to admit I hadn't come up with one yet. "You know how resourceful I am. Get me his name and you'll see."

"No, can do."

"If you don't, I'll get it myself."

"No you won't."

"Why the hell not?" I demanded, eyeing him as if I were Grandma Bella.

"You're on house arrest until further notice."

He folded his arms and spread his legs, so he looked even more like Batman. Right about then, I wanted some bat repellant.

"What the hell does that mean? Why?"

Joe's POV

I was being officially booked.

The officer turned my fingers across the ink and then had me stand on the mark for my mug shot. It was a real trip—like everything had suddenly flipped and my life was the total opposite of what it had been. I was exhausted but no less determined. I just wanted to get everything over with, so I could get my life back to normal.

I wondered if Ranger was still with Steph. I couldn't help but be suspicious he'd taken full advantage of the chance to spend time with her. Who wouldn't? I was missing her like crazy, and this was only the first day. I didn't want to even think of the months of missing her that lay ahead of me.

My keys, wallet and badge were confiscated. They took my belt and shoelaces. Apparently the booking officer assumed I'd be suicidal. I was more in the mood to be homicidal.

My paperwork and processing were completed, and I was put in a holding cell until the time of my arraignment. Good, because I needed time to think.

Something felt off. Why all the reporters? Why had the mad crowd inside of Pino's been given total access to me? None of it made sense. I was supposed to have entered the Trenton prison system almost immediately. How had everything gotten so completely fucked up? Who had leaked the fact I was going to be arrested in the first place?

Steph's POV

"You can't hold me prisoner in my own home. You of all people should get that!" I told Ranger, completely dumbfounded by his latest decree.

"There's an army of reporters coming to Trenton thanks to the news leak. The press does research before they even get here. Who do you think they're going to go after first?"

"Kate—that's what she's here for. It was all part of your brilliant plan—right?" I said acerbically.

"It was done to protect you. Now, with the press foaming at mouth for some answers about Morelli, that could all be shot to hell."

"So marrying Kate was for nothing!"

I was pissed about Ranger's participation in that part of the plan most of all.

"Maybe. But it was a good plan, and as far as you're concerned it still is. _Nothing_ has changed."

"Why are you so damned worried? I won't talk to anyone. I won't be a hostage in my own home either."

"For once in your life will you just do as you're told? Morelli is the top news story of the month! You've been in his orbit forever, and if anyone were going to know what made him descend into a life of crime, it would be you. _Everyone_ here talks. You're going to be a main target for hundreds of cameras and microphones."

Ranger seemed stressed, which was odd. He almost never showed stress.

I blew out some steam. "I'll just refuse to talk."

"No, you'll stay put and out of the way, until we figure out some strategy to call them off or distract them." His back straightened with resolve.

"I don't stay put well. I hate it!"

"I never would have guessed," he said wryly.

"How the hell did the national news know when Joe's arrest was going down?" I asked, smelling a big, furry red-eyed rat.

"We haven't uncovered their source. We're looking into it."

"They're turning everything into a three-ring-circus!"

"That's why you need to lay low."

"I hate it when you two go all GI Joe and Batman on me. I can take care of myself!"

"Morelli's not doing this—it's all me."

"He would be, if he was free. Why don't you get that I'm perfectly cap—"

"I have no doubt you are capable. Stephanie, do you want to cause Morelli one moment of worry after what's he's just been through?"

"No," I responded dejectedly, the air deflating from my chest.

"I promise we'll do our best to protect him and get him home to you safe and sound."

My heart swelled with affection for Ranger and his men. "As mad as I am at you, putting your men on the line—Tank, Cal and Hector—for Joe was so _sweet._" My eyes got a little teary.

"Sweet isn't a word to describe _any of us_. Besides it's NOT for Morelli; it's for you," he said simply.

"You're doing it for him too. You've always liked and respected him as a man and a cop."

"If you tell him that, I'll deny it until the end of time." The corner of his lip turned up. "So if I promise to find a way to get rid of the news-mongers soon, do you promise to behave?"

"What other choice do I have?" I muttered.

"None. The last thing we need is for them to corner you. Everything Joe's done to protect you would have been for nothing."

"I'll be careful."

"You'll stay in?"

"I'll despise it."

"No shit, but it's just for a short time," he relented.

"Okay," I gave in, feeling as though all my plans for revenging Joe's honor had been cruelly thwarted.

"Good." Ranger gave me a knowing smile. "Believe me I know keeping you in one place is like trying to stop a hypersonic missile from its target."

"Funny," I said through gritted teeth. I was still peeved.

He gave me one of his indulgently accepting looks, and I felt momentarily bad for being ungrateful.

"Tell Tank, Hector, and Cal how much I appreciate what they're doing for us."

"You can tell them yourself when all of them come home."

I grabbed his arm impulsively. "I want to see Joe. He needs me. I just know it."

"No. Too risky. Not happening."

"Why not? You could make it happen if you wanted to!" I was irate again. My eyes were filled with disillusionment.

His eyes were that of an impatient father. "I could, but what would it do for him? He's going into that jail, whether he sees you or not. And seeing you would only make it harder. Trust me—that much I know."

Hearing Ranger admit he had some idea of what it would be like for Joe to see me—only to have to say goodbye again—made me give in reluctantly. The last thing he needed was for anything to make it more difficult.

Ranger held up his bug detection device. "I did a sweep while you were in the bathroom. It's all clear now. I only found three. Don't count on that continuing after you leave your apartment again."

We both knew people had made it a daily routine to break into my place for years—including him.

"I'm going to have security installed tomorrow," he informed me, his voice like steel.

"You don't have to."

"I don't have an extra man right now to guard you."

"I'll be fine. Really, you don't need—"

"YesI do. The least we can do for Morelli is to make sure he has as little to worry about as possible where you're concerned while he's in there. Saying no is not an option."

"Okay—for Joe."

Secretly I was relived and grateful, because of that mysteriously evil phone message I'd yet to tell anyone about. I was tempted to tell Ranger, but I knew he was already down too many men. He had enough on his plate. Besides, the FBI would probably still be keeping an eye on me, so I kept my mouth shut.

"Good." He gave me a reassuring smile.

After he left, I felt more alone. I wanted so badly to see Joe I could taste it.

Joe's POV

The arraignment went off without a hitch. The general public had been banned from the courtroom while it took place. A posse of armed officers, all there to protect me, had surrounded the whole building.

Shielding a criminal of any kind was never an enjoyable task to law enforcement. I figured looking out for a crooked cop's well being had to rank worst on the list.

I pled not guilty to the charges at first. My lawyer was an FBI man named Jack Cramer, who was in on the operation. If anyone ever was suited to wearing a suit, it was Jack. He stood about six feet, two. Trim and distinguished, he had black hair that was silvering gray at the temples and sharp blue eyes that didn't miss a thing. His features reminded me of a lion. I'd hire him in a heartbeat if I really were in need of legal counsel.

The ADA was Mark Mulligan. He had a blonde crew cut and a solid football player's body. His demeanor was one of man ready to tackle anyone who'd ever dare cross him. Steely blue eyes told me he was after me. He wanted to make an example of the good cop gone bad. I'd seen him in action before when I'd been called in to give testimony. NO one messed with Mulligan.

The two lawyers nearly came to blows over every issue brought up. Mulligan had no idea what was really going on, so he was hell bent on making me pay for my alleged, treasonous behavior.

The judge decreed no bail would be set, due in part to the obvious fact if I were released and seen on the streets of Trenton, I'd more than likely be dead before morning.

There was a cheery thought.

Mulligan was ravenous to have me declared guilty in front of a jury of my peers. Poor guy. It had to have been a disappointment when I finally pretended to change my mind and pled guilty, waiving a trial. My sentencing was to occur the next morning; due to the fact the judge had urgent personal matters and had no idea when he'd be back.

I wondered what would happen when this operation was finished, and I tried to return to being a homicide detective. Would the angry citizens just accept I'd been doing my job all along or would I always be looking over my shoulder for some nutcase whose mind would never be changed?

Sitting in my cold bleak jail cell, I hoped Stephanie was doing okay. I could only imagine what my family must be thinking by now. They hadn't been allowed in to see me at all. Eddie made sure to inform them I was alive and well. I could picture my mother wringing her hands and crying. My brothers were probably more pissed than anything else. Mary and Cathy were probably shaking their heads; not all that surprised that the Malicious Morelli Gene residing in me had finally won out.

Steph's POV

The scenes of Joe's arrest were still being replayed on the television.

I watched how Kate reached her arms out to him and felt resentment rising again. She had no right to him, even if she was acting. _Get your grimy paws away from him!_ The only good thing about it being televised was getting to see him. It had been so long since I'd seen his gorgeous face in person. They showed a close up of him, and I froze the picture.

_I swear to you Morelli I'm going to find a way to help you get this thing over and done with, so we can move the hell on with our lives—together. No one is going to stop me! If anyone else tries to harm a hair on your head, they'll be answering to me!_

A knock on my apartment door sounded. I was afraid it was the fanatically heartless press coming to badger me. Shaking my head, I tried to ignore the repeated insistent knocking. One more time, and I'd yell at them to get the hell away. Then I'd call the police, which made me sad, because the only policeman I wanted to come to the rescue—was Joe.

"Stephanie, we know you're in there, dear. Please open up. You need your family at a time like this." My mother's voice sent relief coursing up my spine. That was new. Usually the sound of her voice had made me want to yell too.

I wasn't expecting them. I figured my father would make some excuse to leave me alone.

Opening the door, I saw two faces filled with nothing but love for me. My dad was behind my mother mouthing an apology and shaking his head. He didn't need to worry. There was nothing to be sorry for. I was one lucky girl to have them in my life.

"What—no Grandma?"

"She's with Sylvester at a doctor's appointment. She said to give you a big, big hug," my dad explained. Then he opened his arms to deliver Grandma's message.

"Oh Stephanie, this has to be so darned hard for you!" My mother opened her arms.

My father retreated to the hall, returning with his arms fully loaded. How had my mother known she needed to bake that much? There was chocolate cake, cookies and a pineapple upside down cake. She brought chicken and mashed potatoes. I doubted even the leftovers would fit into my fridge.

The only thing missing was Joe. How he would have loved this feast. I didn't have much of an appetite thinking of the paltry fare he was getting behind bars.

"Frank, turn off that television," Mom ordered. Her eyes filled with moist anger. "How dare they make Joe into a common criminal? I'm sure whatever is going on, he did it all for a good reason." My mother's unshakable faith shocked me.

"You really believe in his innocence, Mom?"

"You do. If you do, I do. I know this isn't all it's cracked up to be. You're my daughter. I've known when you were lying since you were this high!" She held her hand about level with her knees. "You've been lying, ever since Joe got married." She kept her voice low but her no nonsense look made me know she meant business.

I couldn't hide the guilt from my eyes. I blushed and looked down. Feeling like my hand had been captured in the cookie jar, I felt slightly forgiven when my father's palm patted my back.

But my mother wasn't through yet. "Your father knows something too, because he told me to make up a feast of food for you. I know him better than anyone. He got a text the other night and then left the house. I saw the receipt for the ice cream in his pocket the next day when I did laundry. You two are up to something. I'm not going to push this, but believe me—neither one of you can fool me one bit!"

She went toward the kitchen to assemble her meal, leaving my dad and I to smile at one another. Sometimes my mother was all that and icing on a cake.

Mom and Dad left shortly after we ate. Mostly I'd played with the food. My stomach was filled with acid, and eating after tossing my cookies earlier was extremely unappealing.

I hoped Joe was getting some rest. He had so much ahead of him. He needed healing time now. _God! What had they been thinking_ _arresting him in front of a crowd like that at lunch hour?_ Why hadn't they cleared out the room before the actual arrest? Joe's life was in enough danger. And why the hell had it made the national news?

I was curled up into Joe's chair; grateful Ranger had swept for bugs. It had been good to speak freely with my parents. They'd tried to make the evening as normal as possible. My mother never interrogated or made waves. She was too worried about my feelings and me. I'd really misjudged her much of my life. She was a lot wiser and more loving than I'd ever realized.

Looking at the time on my cable box, it read eight forty-eight. I knew Joe would be thinking of me soon. He'd been thinking of me all day. I could feel it. The same way I'd been thinking of him.

Joe's POV

I sat in my cell.

The bandage on my wound felt tight, and I was still in a lot of pain. The pain pills helped, but there was no way for me to spend the night comfortably. God, I'd give anything to be in bed curled against Stephanie's, warm sexy body right about now.

Shit.

Steph was all I wanted or needed. Seeing her would make me so damned happy. At least I knew Kate had gotten the message to her. I was a little ticked Ranger had been the one to relay the information, but I knew Kate's available choices had been few.

Michaels and Kate had finally left. I'd told her to go home and get some rest. She'd looked dead on her feet. Michaels had asked me if I still wanted to do the stupid mission. Boy, had his attitude changed after seeing me injured and battered. I had reassured him, and he'd nodded his surrender.

He'd made one last effort. "If you change your mind Morelli, it's not too late."

"I won't. This is for Stephanie. There's not a chance in hell I'll change my mind."

He'd left shaking his head, frustrated to the max. I understood that feeling all too well.

Everything was up in the air. I didn't know how soon I'd be ready to go into prison. The FBI was still making up their minds. There was talk of me entering prison and being put in solitary confinement under the pretense I'd attacked a guard. I'd stay there until I was well enough to face the general population.

They'd also come up with the prison infirmary as a possibility, but it was quickly rejected, because too many people had access. If the word spread I was wounded, the whole purpose of me going in with guns blazing would be defeated. The public was allowed to visit incarcerated, ill relatives, which could expose me to even _more,_ threatening vigilante behavior.

I didn't want to dwell on any of it at the moment.

Looking at clock on the gray cracking wall, I saw it was eight fifty-nine. Time to send that mental telepathy I'd promised her.

_I love you Cupcake. I'm okay; don't worry. You be ready for me when I get home, because have I ever got plans for us! We won't be going out for a week—maybe two. So get the kitchen fully stocked! I'm talking wild gorilla, non-stop sex! Give Rex a grape for me. Keep safe. _

_Steph's POV_

Sitting in the chair meant for Joe, my thoughts drifted back to those last moments of ours on the phone. I remembered how his voice had sounded as he'd virtually kissed my eyelids and my nose. Tears dropped off my cheeks straight to the black leather cushions making small plop marks.

God! I just wanted to be cuddled up into his warm, comforting embrace. I tried hard to feel his arms, and, for a brief moment, I'd succeeded. Looking at the clock on my cable box, I saw it was nearly nine. He'd promised to think something every night at the exact same time. Closing my eyes, I willed his thoughts into my head.

_I love you too, Joe, and I'll be waiting for you. When you come home, don't make any plans to do anything but spend time with me! We've got a lot of make-up-for-lost-time sex ahead of us! Hugs and kisses, Morelli. Be safe._

Kate's POV

Finally I was home! I'd stayed with Joe and his lawyer for what had felt like forever, playing the whole show of the concerned, devastated bride. In truth, I'd beenshaken by the experience, which had never happened before. Of course, I'd never allowed myself to become personally attached before either.

Joe's kick ass attitude and fighting spirit was inspiring. I hoped with all my heart, he'd prove me right, and we'd both live to tell this story for years to come.

It'd been a pretty volatile moment when the officer who'd accidently shot Joe had come in with his tail between his legs to apologize, surprised he'd wanted to given Joe's arrest. But I'd heard through the grapevine the young man had been inspired by Joe to become a cop in the first place. Apparently, he didn't believe, even for a minute, that Joe was guilty.

I'd expected Joe to read him the riot act. Instead he'd listened to the regretful officer. He'd sternly advised him to rethink his decision to become a cop. Then he'd told him he believed it was an accident. He'd gone on to tell the rookie to forgive himself and move forward.

I was amazed at how much Joe had taught me—by example. The idea he would even contemplate forgiving me for what I'd done made me a little teary.

The day's events replayed in my head. We'd had no idea it was going to be quite that bad. The experience Joe and I had shared acted as a bonding agent. I felt affection for him, as thought he might become a lifelong friend. I sincerely hoped both he and Stephanie _would_ forgive me someday.

Where the hell had all the reporters come from? I hadn't planned that! Who'd let the cat out of the bag? Something was definitely off there. It sent shivers up my exhausted body. The national news getting a hold of this had been tantamount to treason on someone's part. Who would do something like that?

The FBI personnel on this case were as clean as they could be. I'd worked with all of them before, and they'd never betrayed anything on any case.

The people at the TPD seemed legit and interested in making this mission work. Had someone eavesdropped on our private meetings? Eddie had been the only uniformed officer privy to our plans. Had it been him? Had the allure of talking to the press been too much for him to resist? I didn't think so. He seemed like a pretty upstanding guy.

I needed to get together with Ranger, because this bullshit had to be stopped before it got out of hand. Our lives could all be in more danger than they already were if we didn't find the leak.

I could only imagine what had to be going through Stephanie's mind and heart. The entire arrest had been televised. She'd probably gone through hell, and I'd only added to it. If there were any way to make it right, I'd do it in a heartbeat. There had to be something I could for both of them.

First thing in the morning, I was packing my bags and moving to Joe's house on Slater with Bob. Joe had packed up his stuff earlier. This echoing, ostentatious structure was no place to live. It felt emptier without him—not that I was having romantic longings. I just missed his laidback, comforting presence as well as the sense of security he automatically provided.

No more putting off the inevitable task. Sighing deeply, I hit the button on my phone.

"Yo." _Wow, nothing like a greeting reserved just for me_.

"How are you this evening, Ranger?" I forced the well-taught manners my mother had mandated into overdrive.

"Why all the reporters? Do you have any information about how that happened yet? Are you sure you didn't do it?" He'd obviously lost out on the manners class during his upbringing.

Apparently he'd lost his mind too.

"I had _nothing _to do with it. You know very well the FBI doesn't want attention called to this! I have no idea how it happened."

"It reeks."

"I know." I shifted the phone from one ear to the other; mistakenly thinking the conversation might improve.

"How did they know it would be today? How did the national feed get assembled that fast?"

"Good questions."

"I shouldn't still be asking them. _Someone_ should already have the answers.

I knew the someone to whom he was referring snidely was me.

"What do you know about Eddie Gazarra?" I asked, hoping I was wrong.

"He's a clean cop—one of Stephanie and Joe's best friends."

"So? Sometimes the thrill of notoriety gets people to do things they wouldn't normally do," I argued, playing Devil's advocate.

"I don't think so."

"Fine? Then who else? Only a select few of us know about this."

"What if someone bugged the room where we held meetings at the precinct? Maybe someone overheard just enough about the search warrant at the courthouse," he offered some valid possibilities.

"Are we dealing with professionals or just the crazy gossips in the Burg?"

"Hard to say. A meeting's imperative."

"Yeah, but NOT at the police station," I warned him needlessly.

"Agreed."

"Where then?"

"I'll get back to you. We may have an empty office building we can use downtown."

"If the press isn't stopped soon, it could blow the whole operation."

"Fuck! You think I don't know that?" His tone was short. Usually he had such control.

"Well, aren't you just charming tonight?"

"Meghan, this isn't fucking personal!"

"Oh, _believe _me, I know that. You would never allow anything to get too personal."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

_Click_

I'd hung up on the clueless bastard and had wanted to throw him across the room with the phone! When this thing was over, I was taking a LONG vacation as far away from that man as I could go! I'd find a beautiful turquoise blue ocean with a sandy, white beach and lay there having exotic pineapple concoctions delivered one after the other.

Concentrating on forgetting Carlos Manoso would be my first and only priority. I'd finally get myself under control where he was concerned, and I wouldn't come back until every last loving, nurturing, caring, idiotic feeling I'd ever had toward that infuriating, inflated excuse for a superhero was baked right out of me.

I wasn't sure what I'd do after that. Maybe it was time to actually practice law. That would be a hell of a lot better than slowly losing who I was every day of my life.

I was preparing my nightly no doze coffee when I felt another shiver go up my back. It was the danger-is-imminent-kind. Quietly, I snuck a huge butcher knife out of the open drawer and turned fast, having the element of surprise on my side. Grabbing the intruder firmly, I twisted him around, so that he was in an iron tight headlock. Brandishing the knife across his sorry neck, I had him dead to rights.

"No one hangs up on me," he croaked in a strangled gasp, while trying to unlock my hands from their squeezing death-grip. He was having no luck.

I knew it was _him_ the moment my hands made contact with his body. My fingers had memorized every part of him lovingly. A part of me wanted to drop the knife, so I could kiss him madly. A bigger part, however, wanted to _kick_ him madly instead.

It was all I could do not to burst into laughter. I weighed the option of holding him there for a while longer. What wronged woman wouldn't want that? But I let him go, deciding his day was still coming.

He seemed a little embarrassed. Unbuttoning the top of his stuffed shirt in order to get more breath, his eyes gleamed menacingly right into mine.

I couldn't resist poking at him. In the past, we'd made egging one another on an intensely, fun foreplay ritual.

"Was I _aware_ of my surroundings enough for you?" I asked him with sickeningly sweet sarcasm.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" he asked, barely hiding a half smiling sneer.

"Oh, you bet your damned superior delusions I am."

I saw something akin to a fondness in his eyes. He was remembering again as well.

"Fine. Have your laugh. Hopefully, then can we get down to business."

"How did you get here so fast?"

"I was in the area," he said vaguely.

"Oh, my God! Are you watching this house?" My eyes opened wide—shocked.

"I said I was passing by," he contradicted lamely.

"You're worried about me?" _Damn it! Stop it heart! Settle the hell down. This means nothing, just like everything else between us meant—nothing._

"I wanted to make sure the reporters didn't hound you all night. It wouldn't be good for the operation," he finished weakly.

"You can't even admit you're worried about someone."

"I can too."

"Oh, right—I forgot. Stephanie. You're never far from her side. Why aren't you watching her tonight? Joe's locked behind bars. You're free to make your move. What's stopping you? I'm surprised you could tear yourself away!"

"Watch it, Meghan. You're green eyes are flashing with jealousy," he said with a half-assed grin.

"Jealous—in your dreams! I'm disgusted." I shook my head, giving him a derisive look.

"I'm not here to discuss Ba—Stephanie. I'm here to get a handle on the press situation."

"Ranger, why is it you can't allow yourself to be human for one single moment?" I _almost _felt sorry for him.

"Being human is a fatal flaw I can't afford." His dark, ebony eyes looked sad.

"Why? Why do you insist on being a loner? Why won't you _ever_ let anyone all the way in?"

"I am not in a position to have what other people have, even if I wanted it," he offered mysteriously as ever.

"You could have had _everything _you ever wanted. You just had to reach out and ask for it." I let my eyes show him how much I'd wanted to give him everything he dreamed.

A long silence hung between us. His eyes softened slightly. It looked as though he wanted to speak but he held it back per usual.

"This isn't getting us anywhere, Meghan. How do you plan to handle the reporters?"

"Don't worry. I'll do what I always do." My head hurt from trying to figure him out.

"See that you do. Get back to me on this tomorrow."

"Aye Aye captain!" My eyes challenged him as I mockingly saluted.

"Hang up on me again, and you'll regret it!"

Leaving me with those loving, sweet words, he did his disappearing act. The only thing missing was his friggin' magic cape!

Steph's POV

The next morning I lay in bed trying to imagine Joe in jail, but I couldn't. The thought of him wounded in a cold, grey, holding cell, eating food not even fit for a dog made me feel overly protective of him—like an angry Mama Bear. I would've done anything to pull him out of that cell and bring him home, so I could nurse him back to health.

I got out of bed, deciding I'd better see whose calls I'd ignored the previous day. It was all the usual suspects, but there was one I knew I had to call back.

I felt so guilty about Mary Lou. Lying to her and pretending with her—felt wrong, but there was nothing I could do about it. I hoped she and everyone else would forgive me when this was over. Hitting the speed dial with her number, I knew avoiding her would have hurt more than my deception.

"Steph! Thank God. I've been worried sick about you! You must be in total shock. I know I am."

"It was horrible to watch that happening to Joe." That was the truth at least.

"I know! How could someone change like that before your eyes?"

"I don't know. He's not the guy I knew." _He was the guy I loved more than anything. God I needed him so much! _

"They were horrible to him. The guys at the precinct must be so angry with him, but I couldn't believe they let that madman through the crowd! They allowed him to spit on Joe and hit him!" Mary Lou was horrified.

"_You_ hit him," I reminded her.

"Yeah, but that was different. He's a friend! I did it as a best friend defending your honor. He had it coming!"

I almost laughed. Leave it to Mare to justify hitting a friend for a friend.

"You feel bad for him?" I asked curiously.

"A little. I know Joe's own fault for marrying that gold digging harlot, but why in the hell would he have turned crooked after all the years of good service he put in? It doesn't make sense. Something horrible must have happened to make him go so insanely renegade out of the blue."

"They said on the news he'd been skimming for over a year." This was fun. I got to help Joe look guiltier than hell.

"But Steph, did you ever catch him doing anything in all the time you were with him? Did you overhear phone calls? Did he act funny? I mean more than normal?" Mary Lou asked me, trying to put the pieces that didn't fit together.

The last thing I needed her to do was figure anything out. At the same time, I wanted to confide in her as I'd always done. This stunk!

"This stays between you and me?" I asked, realizing the lies weren't going to stop till this damned thing was over.

"Yeah, of course," she agreed.

"Pinky swear with blood drops?" We'd never had the nerve to do the actual bloodletting, but we'd talked about doing it a lot.

"Okay, that too."

"I did hear and see some weird things the last few months before we broke up."

"God! Really, Steph? Like what?"

_Shit! _

"I think maybe he snuck out on me—late night meetings and uh—a couple of phone conversations that uh—ended abruptly. Whenever I'd question him, he'd act nervous and change the subject quickly."

"_Really_?" I could almost picture Mary Lou's eyes widening like saucers.

"Yep, but I don't want this to get out. I have no proof. I don't want to make it worse for him!"

"You still love him, don't you?" she asked, all soft and coddling.

"Of course I do. When haven't I loved Joe Morelli?" _At last—the truth._

"You're loyal as the day is long!" Mary Lou praised me. I rolled my eyes at that one.

"Me loyal? Mare, I cheated on him with Ranger. Maybe what's happened is all _my_ fault."

I had to make her believe Joe went nuts because of me. When Mary Lou got something into her head, she was like a tenacious, rapid dog with a bone. Not unlike her best friend.

"You think all this could be a reaction to you and Ranger?"

"It's possible," I agreed.

"You think he got into skimming the drug funds and divulging confidential information to criminals? _Everything he did was because of you_?"

Mary Lou's unbelieving tone wasn't reassuring. How was I going to get her to let this go?

"Who knows? He went kind of crazy right after the break up remember?"

"I suppose. He did know about Ranger before the big confrontation you two had—long before. Oh my God, Stephanie, don't you blame yourself. You didn't put a gun to his head. He got married and did all of this on his own. You can't take that kind of responsibility for him."

"I know."

"This is so sad. I always loved Joe, and you and Joe together was inevitable! How could this have happened?" she questioned again, even after I'd given her reason upon reason not to.

"He's a Morelli. You know what they have going against them. It's in his genes."

I hated saying that. Joe had worked too damned hard to have everyone believing the worst. When this was over, I'd make damned sure everyone knew he was the most wonderful man ever. I'd have them believing it again—or my name wasn't Stephanie Plum, soon to be Morelli!

"I guess. I just hope you're going to get over him some day!" Mare sounded like she wanted to cry for me.

"I will. You know me; I bounce back from things like a boomerang. I'll be fine."

"No, Stephanie you won't. He's the love of your life! It's me—Mary Lou you're talking to. You can try to fool everyone else, but you'll never fool me—not about your love for Joe Morelli anyway!"

"Okay, its sucks I hate him for this!"

"That's more like it!" Mary Lou actually sounded happier. "Let's do lunch this week. You need to get out and stop thinking another thought about him."

She must have known she was expecting the impossible. "Okay fewer thoughts about him," she relented after she was met with silence.

_Fat chance!_ He was all I could think of twenty-four seven. At least in dreams I got to be with him and feel his touch. I'd hear his voice and sigh happily, his lips pressed to mine. I never wanted to wake up—not until I could have the one and only tried and tested Joe back in my arms—forever.

"Okay, you call me when you're free, because I know if I pick a time, you'll find some reason to change it. You're the one with the rug-rats!" I smiled wistfully. Maybe if I were lucky someday, I'd be the one with the rug-rats to schedule around.

Ranger's security men came and did their thing. It took them less than an hour, and everything was locked up tight as a drum. I must have been getting more intelligent in my old age, because Manuel only had to explain the gizmos and gadgets to me two times instead of ten. I'd practiced enough to know what I was doing, and then thanked them politely, giving him some cookies to take back to Rangeman. I knew the always sugar-deprived Rangeman employees would speedily gobble them up.

The rest of the day crawled by. No new information regarding Joe or his condition was released. I cleaned my apartment. I scoured and repapered Rex's cage. I was done with all that by eleven in the morning. Attacking my closet was next, as I discarded all clothing items that weren't Joe's favorites. That left only tight dresses, skirts and low-necked shirts. I had to laugh, because that resulted in keeping only one pair of leather slacks Joe had given me for riding with him on the Ducati.

I put some stuff back, because I still liked it. Then I took it out; then I put it back again. I paced. I ate leftovers and paced some more. I ate more leftovers, resulting in my usual jean unbuttoning.

Joe's POV

I'd gotten my sentence. Twenty years—maybe sixteen and a half if I was on my best behavior. Not much chance of that. Good thing this wasn't for real. The press wasn't allowed to have any information on me, or when I'd be transferred to the State Penitentiary. The FBI, Ranger and other key players were still trying to figure out what in the heck to do with me, so I could have time to heal.

Day one: twenty-four hours of prison at my own precinct. Not fun so far. In fact, it was boring as hell. I counted the last hour to nine at night, one minute at a time. Watching the hands on the clock moving slightly and figuring out what message to send her, helped make that one-hour go by faster.

_Hey there, Cupcake. I miss you. How's it going? I just want you to know a valuable piece of information. There are one exactly two hundred seventy three cracks on the walls here and twelve really inventive pieces of graffiti—one of which is a really good idea for a sexual position. I can see your eyes rolling. Absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder. Just think what it will do for the libido. I'm thinking I might get my way by the time I get home. Hope you've calmed down by now—I'm fine. I promise. Stay out of trouble. I know you—remember—love you. Be good and safe. _

Steph's POV

I was climbing the walls, but I wasn't anxious to venture outside, knowing the associated press and members of national news teams were arriving in droves. Trenton had the story of the week. What could be more enthralling than a once wonderful cop gone bad and mad?

Only he hadn't. But the rest of the world sure as hell had!

Finally, evening came. I forced myself to watch a movie to try to get my mind off things and picked a hell of a movie too. Heads rolled literally, and blood gushed—everywhere. I was freaking glad I had the security system in place; otherwise, I might have been tempted to carry a baseball bat around with me the rest of the night.

At nine, my favorite moment of the day arrived.

_I miss you too, Joe—so much! Are they treating you okay? I hope you can feel the hug I'm sending you. What? NO! Morelli I told you I'd NEVER do that. Forget it! I'm always good! I'm not doing anything stupid. Be safe, you jerk! Okay, I love you too!_

Deciding there was nothing good to watch on network television, I popped in my favorite—Ghostbusters. However, even it couldn't take my mind off of Joe. He'd watched it with me so many times, yet all I could only think of was the fact we'd never actually finished the movie together. We'd start to neck about halfway through, and then we'd leave it running while we moved on to bigger and better pursuits.

Who knew you could make love so passionately to the lyrics "I ain't afraid of no ghosts". With Morelli all the ghosts and goblins were always chased away. He knew how to distract me from anything—even sweets. If only he were there.

God I needed him. I could hardly stand the distance between us. Knowing he was just across town, so heartlessly locked away from me, did nothing to make my restlessness go away.

Suddenly I had this overwhelming urge for a candy bar—maybe a whole bag of candy bars. Actually, a whole bushel might do the trick. If I couldn't have sexy Joe, it made sense that chocolate would be a way-in-the-distance runner up. To even half-way make up for Morelli, it would have to be the quadruple whammy combination: Snickers, Kit Kats, Twix bars, and M&M's—both plain and peanut, which only counted as one since they were all M&M's with or without the nuts.

I had chocolate cake, pineapple upside down cake and more cookies my mother had brought. Yet, I still wanted a friggin' candy bar more than ever. I kept trying to decide if I should do it. If the FBI were indeed on my tail, they wouldn't thank me for a midnight run. Damn it! I was about to go bonkers being held hostage like that.

Figuring even the press had to go to bed sometime; this was my best and safest chance to avoid them. The Shop Rite was only a few blocks away, so I grabbed my navy seals, ball cap, keys and purse and called to Rex that I'd be back in a flash.

Sneaking into the hall, I looked around a potted plant to make certain no one was hiding, waiting to jump out at me. Then I made my way to the elevator. Opening the front door to the apartment building, I knew my best strategy was to sneak around to the back and get in my car as quietly as possible.

Shit!

There was a gaggle of them parked off to the right. Pulling the cap down over my head to cover my face, I wished for a mustache and wig. I wanted—no _needed_—my damned candy bars.

Someone came up behind me and put their hand on my shoulder, and I screamed.

"It's me Steph, relax! Jeez, girl, what's got you so jumpy?"

Dillon was a Godsend. He could help distract them while I took off.

"There's a bunch of reporters out there hoping to waylay me."

"I've got it. I'll tell them I'll call the police on them for loitering."

I smiled my appreciation toward Dillon. I'd get him a six-pack while I was at the store.

He made quite a ruckus shouting at them. A few more reporters came out of the bushes and around from the back parking lot to see what information they could glean from him. Getting into my car, I quickly locked my doors. As I pulled out, I saw headlights in my rearview mirror.

Shit!

It didn't look to be the regulation FBI sedan. It was a dark colored, European sports car of some kind. I kept driving, telling myself it had to be my imagination. But it wasn't, because as I drove past the Shop Rite, I noticed it was still behind me. After a couple of stop lights, it was still stuck to me like glue. Then I turned into a gas station to test it further. It was right on my tail.

I turned out of the gas station, and sure enough—there he was—my shadow and me.

I took three more turns—two to the right and one to the left.

No doubt about it, I had company.

Oh Fuck!

That's what I got for disobeying the Bat instructions.

What now?

Why the heck had I let the enticement of candy bars put me in danger again? When would I learn?

I got onto the freeway. The copycat was on my ass, nearly hitting my bumper with his close driving. Hoping to lead whomever it was on a wild goose chase, I decided to fake him out. I'd then find an exit that would lead me straight to Rangeman. I didn't know where the hell else to go.

My phone rang. What the shit! Who'd be stupid enough to call me when I was driving like a maniac to get away from that loser? Maybe I should answer it and tell them all to go to hell. Then it dawned on me, with the tracking on my car, it could be someone from Rangeman checking up on me.

I managed to hit the talk button and speaker mode.

"Hello?"

"You handle that old car like a pro!" Boisterous, sharp laughter hurt my head.

"Who are you and what the hell do you want?" I yelled, all the while doing my best to cut off the fanatical idiot behind me.

"Stephannnnieeeee!" The familiar, threatening cackle sent icy fear traveling through my body.

"Why are you doing this to me? What do you want?"

"_You."_

The way he said it made me cringe. Who in the fuck was this, and what had I done to merit his threatening presence in my life? I had to keep focused on the road. Trying to remain calm, I knew I needed more information.

"Why? What could you possibly want with me?"

"I know we're going to meet again sooonnn, _very_ soon." This guy liked singing, obviously.

"I can seee youuu," he taunted, like a lunatic playing hide and seek.

"Can you see meeee?" he asked. Apparently, he was into sick games.

"You can't get awaaayyyy. You'll never want to leave me. You'll see, I'll make you—"

"Shut Up!" I screamed. The idea of his eyes on me was enough to push me into panic mode. I pushed my foot down hard on the gas pedal.

"Oh this is fun! Followwww the leader!" He sang out, insanely happy.

"I have special plans for you. We'll be together. I promise." Then mercifully, the call cut off.

Sweat was pouring off my brow, as I zigged-zagged madly trying to get Big Blue to take me away from the insanity that had become my life.

The sporty car pulled up alongside me. I could tell the driver was wearing a hooded sweatshirt. He swerved over slightly, hitting the side of Big Blue. My car went slightly out of control. I frantically jerked the wheel getting the vehicle back on track.

SHIT!

Ranger had warned me. He would be beside himself and ready to throttle me for this! I gunned the motor to the max and swerved in a snake like pattern at breakneck speed, determined to put this terror behind me. Joe, oh God! He'd be so upset that I'd acted so carelessly, and he'd be right. I hoped I'd live to apologize to him. He had plenty enough to worry about, without me adding to it.

I made a quick, strategically brilliant decision and yanked on the steering column hard, twisting it almost all the way around. Making a u-turn right in the middle of the highway, I watched as he tried to catch up to me. I turned around again, increasing my speed to the maximum.

I took the first exit off the freeway. Parking the car on a dimly lit industrial street, I watched, hoping the crazy loon would drive on past me.

Damn it! The sleek car was coasting up behind me, as though I'd made it easy to find me. I swerved out onto the road, shoving the pedal to the metal. I could do this! The obstacle course training at the Police Academy with Eddie was about to pay off big time! I prayed, Big Blue would be up for the task.

I sped back up to the freeway, which luckily at that hour was nearly deserted except for me and my worst nightmare. I let him keep up with me just close enough but not too close. When the time came to make my move, he would need to be taken by surprise.

I kept the pace up, refusing to let him pass, so he couldn't cut me off. Then just as I lulled him into a false sense of security, I hit the gas and spun the car in circle after circle, changing directions fast in order to throw him off his little game. Hopefully, he was going bonkers, trying to figure out what the heck I was going to do next. I had NO idea myself!

Making another snap decision, I maneuvered the lumbering old car around and hit the accelerator for all it was worth. I held the steering wheel in a death grip. The car roared like a banshee, as it knocked down the middle meridian between the four lanes. Twisting the wheel hard, I headed in the opposite direction. I drove like a mad woman until, mercifully, the exit I needed appeared. Searching my review mirror, I was relieved to spot no headlights behind me.

Should I do it? Where else could I go? I couldn't risk driving to Joe's precinct for help, because he was there in a holding cell. It was the only place I wanted to go! To see his face then would put sanity back into my existence.

Tears threatened to pour, but I couldn't afford them. I had to see and think clearly. I swiped my nose with my sleeve and quickly returned my hand to gripping the steering wheel. I didn't know cops at other precincts. They'd probably think I was crazy. I couldn't go back home, because I'd never make it to my apartment without someone either mowing me down, interrogating me to death or way worse!

That damned phone call had shaken me to the center of my being. The guy was nuts. He was undoubtedly out to get me one way or another, and yet I had no idea who he was or what the hell he wanted with me.

Shit!

I only had ONE option and immediately headed toward Haywood Street. I knew I'd find refuge there. Someone would escort me safely back to my apartment. I thought about driving directly to Rangeman and having them open up for me, but something told me that the jackass wasn't far behind. I didn't want him to know exactly where I was headed.

I'd had so many traumatic moments in the last few days. I wasn't sure if I was coming or going. Sleep had been sporadic and fitful. I felt like I was running on empty.

I no longer had a passkey to Rangeman, which meant I'd have to call ahead and let them know I was coming. I'd have to ditch Big Blue several blocks away and make my way on foot, making sure that no one followed me. The guys would use the outside surveillance cameras to track my arrival and open the gate.

Another option would be to park the car, call Rangeman, and wait for someone to come and get me, but I was still shaking over that damned evil voice. It'd been just too shittin' scary. What if the nutcase came up to the car and used an axe to break the glass? That's what happened in the movie I'd just seen. He'd get to me before Ranger's guys could even get there. I'd end up a gory, bloody unrecognizable headless mess!

No, the first plan was better. I'd be on foot, but I could hide in the darkness. He wouldn't be able to find me so easily. Big Blue was like a come-and-get-me-neon-sign. Okay that settled it. Plan A it would be.

As plans went, it was a pretty stupid and risky one. My biggest nightmare would be running straight into the arms of my stalker.

Crap!

I could just keep driving all night, but eventually I'd run out of gas. I was exhausted. This is what I got for my damned sugar addiction. I promised God if he got me safely to Rangeman, I'd give up all candy bars for eternity. I amended that promise to half of all candy bars. God wanted me to be happy—right? I wasn't feeling happy.

Losing that mad imbecile would make me good and happy!

My cell phone rang again. I jumped, almost hitting my head on Big Blue's upholstered ceiling. No. He wasn't going to get the chance to threaten me again. I'd ignore it, even if it kept on ringing forever.

I made a few more screwy twists and turns, which was no small accomplishment with my tank of a car. I kept watch in my review mirror. No one was behind me any longer. Thank God! Where was a police car when you needed one?

The phone finally stopped its ghoulish haunting ring. I picked it up and pushed the button fast and furiously.

I tried Ranger's direct line first, but it went to voice mail. Calling the general number, I immediately requested Ranger. I was told he was unavailable. I briefly explained my plight and plan to the desk guy. He was new, but he didn't question my name or me. He said he would open the gate as soon as he saw me on camera.

I figured five blocks away was a good enough distance. Parking Big Blue, I locked it up securely and exited, wondering if I'd ever be lucky enough to have someone actually _want _to steal the indestructible monstrosity. That damned car may have just saved me—again!

I crouched down low out of the glare of the streetlights. Looking all around me, I ascertained it was safe to proceed. I ran to the first indistinctive, obscure place I could find.

Plastering my body against the closed, silent and empty buildings, I sunk into the shadowy darkness. Gradually, I kept inching my way toward Haywood. I checked constantly for someone behind me. I felt as though I was being watched, but every time I looked back, no one was there.

I heard the slam of a car door in the distance. My body jerked in fear. _Calm down, Stephanie—it could be anybody_. I made my way a little further, trying to keep my breath at even keel. My legs shook and my head felt light.

I screamed as a meowing cat jumped off one of the awnings above me, nearly tripping me.

Shit!

_Why don't you just call the lunatic to come to your side, Stephanie!_

I had two and a half blocks left to go. I could do this! Quickening my pace, I kept checking and rechecking in every direction. My spidey senses were in red-alert-warning-mode.

Nothing.

No one.

Blackness was surrounding me.

I moved forward, determined to make the last two blocks without incident.

Suddenly out of nowhere, I heard fast-paced footsteps coming up behind me! I broke into a rabid run, and I heard the interloper break into a sprint, trying to catch up to me. I could hear his heavy, labored breathing and the click clack of his shoes hitting the sidewalk in a threatening, rhythmic beat.

The pounding of my heart, as it was jumping out of my chest, echoed inside my ears. Dashing toward Haywood, I only had one block to go. He was catching up to me! Oh my God! I ran like the devil was chasing me. I felt a clawing hand jerk me back. I fought like a wildcat, growling and scratching at him. I tried poking at his eyes! I couldn't see who it was. But I could feel the hood around his face. It was him! I fought blindly, shoving him back hard as I could. I'd been taught well by Eddie. I spun around as soon as he lost his balance, running for all I was worth.

Half a block!

I rounded the corner and closed the distance in double time, plowing straight into a hard, unyielding masculine chest.

_Had my_ _worst nightmare come true? _

Closing my eyes in terror, I let out a bloodcurdling scream.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

No profit. Not my characters

Carol you are the most wonderful beta reader ever! Thanks again for everything you do for me and most especially our friendship.

Thanks to all who are reading and to those who are reviewing. It really helps to know what you are thinking and feeling about the story. Its a great guideline for future chapters. I really appreciate hearing from you.

Steph's POV

Closing my eyes in terror, I let out a bloodcurdling scream.

I realized suddenly that warm arms were wrapped around me, and I wasn't being stabbed, strangled or beheaded with an axe. First one eye then the other opened to find two very familiar, if not exactly friendly ebony eyes, staring down into mine. They actually appeared bug-eyed like Rex's. Strange, I couldn't remember Ranger's eyes ever looking that way before?

"Ba—be, yyyoourr—chok—ing—me," he gasped.

Certain I was about to be annihilated or mutilated at any moment, my arms had gone up of their own volition to fight off my perceived attacker. Wheezing for air, I could barely force my fingers to release the death grip I had on his neck. He inhaled air, keeping his gentle hold around my body, which was shivering in traumatized distress.

"It's okay, you're in friendly arms," he whispered hoarsely. His hand stroked my cheek gently.

I tried to pull away from him, fully aware that I wasn't supposed to be in his embrace at all. My legs were wobbly from the combination of starring in my own personal self-inflicted horror movie while trying to sprint like an Olympian runner at the same time. I couldn't even stand on my own two feet.

"Let's get you inside," he said. Realizing I was in no shape to walk, he lifted me easily into his arms and carried me through the Rangeman gate. As it slid shut behind us, I felt the tension drain out of my body. I relaxed in the security of his arms, my own arms draping gratefully around his neck.

He made his way into the elevator and up to the familiar seventh floor apartment. My stomach was a mass of intricately tangled knots, and my throat was parched. Tears were about to gush.

He carried me into the living room and gently set me down on the spacious leather couch. Moving to the sideboard filled with crystal decanters, he poured two brandies and handed one of them over to me before settling himself on the edge of an armchair straight across from me. He took a generous gulp and exhaled deeply before gazing into my eyes.

"Take a sip. It will help with the shock."

I did as ordered. The warm brown liquid trickled down my throat, burning slightly. I started to feel as though I might be able to utter a word or two.

"Okay, let me guess. You started climbing the walls, and you couldn't stop the powerful urge for a Tastykake."

Tears fell, as I barely rasped out the equally ridiculous confession. "C-Candy bars—"

Joe's POV

Stephanie was running down a long endless hallway. I could see jail cells lining both sides. We were in a surreal prison of some kind.

She was running from a shadowy figure in front of me. I could hear her cries and screams begging me to help her. Feeling my legs reverberating each time my foot hit the pavement, my chest burned with the superhuman effort I was making to catch up to her.

I had to protect her.

I called out to her so she'd know I was coming. She didn't hear my pleas to stop. She didn't look back. My throat was going husky from yelling her name.

Sitting up, I suddenly found myself in the tiny holding cell. The hard metal bed was barely softened by the thin, worn, I-didn't want-to-know-who-or-what-had-laid-on-it-before-me mattress. The itchy, wool blanket was doing nothing to take away the chills I felt running up my spine. Beads of perspiration were forming on my forehead. Why had it felt so damned real?

Stephanie.

She was all I could think or dream about. I loved the dreaming when it was fun or sensual—just the two of walking down the beach or driving somewhere on my Ducati or just being at home together. But this dream had not been heartwarming or comforting. It had forced me to instantly awaken, and I very much doubted I'd be able to get back to sleep.

I could make out by the hall light that it was nearly one-thirty in the morning. My wounds were smarting again. Damn, I had hoped the pain medication would take me through the night. I wondered if Stephanie was fast asleep in her bed, dreaming sweet dreams of our future. If I couldn't get back to sleep, then perhaps I'd indulge in a bit of hopeful fantasizing myself.

Steph POV

"Candy bars?" Ranger snorted, shaking his head. "Steph, how many times have I told you those damned things could kill you."

"I know. They almost did," I said self-deprecatingly.

"Have some more brandy. You're shaking like a nervous rabbit."

I took another sip and let the burning sensation permeate through me.

"I was so damned stupid! I should have listened to you.

It was the old me—selfish, reckless and a jump-in-without-thinking-it-through spoiled brat!"

"That's a lot of self-recrimination for merely wanting some chocolate."

"I'm ashamed of myself."

"It's in the past."

"No, Ranger, it's not. It should have never happened. I vowed I'd never put myself in that kind of danger again. I wanted to keep anyone from ever having to worry one minute about me—especially Joe. Then the damn lack of self-discipline hit me. I couldn't even make good one day on my promise to you. Joe would've been devastated if every effort he's made for me had been in vain, and all due to my asininely thoughtless behavior."

"Was it the damn press that had you running like a demon was chasing you?"

"No."

"You looked like you had seen a ghost."

"I did, in a way."

"Come again?"

"It was my attacker from the grocery store parking lot."

"How do you know?" he asked, his eyes narrowing speculatively.

"He called my home phone. I'd been living at my parent's house when he left the message shortly after I got home from the hospital, so I didn't get it for a few weeks. I was so preoccupied with everything else I didn't even think to see what messages had been left for me at the apartment. Everyone important to me knew I'd been at my parent's. My cell rang constantly."

"Okay, you got the message late. I get that."

"I got a live phone call after I returned to my apartment too." Confession time.

"Shit! You _should_ have told us."

"I know. I just didn't want to make it worse for Joe or harder on you. I figured maybe it had nothing to do with the prison stuff. The guy seems to have a vendetta against me. I don't even recognize his voice. He cackles and singsongs everything! It's so creepy. It reminds me of Ramirez, but I _know _he's dead." I sighed and leaned my head back against the couch. "I should have told you and Joe."

"He came after you?"

I could see the tension lines around his eyes.

"Yes. Dillon distracted the press for me, so I could sneak out the back way. I made it to Big Blue fine, but the moment I pulled out of the lot I saw a car's headlights behind me. At first I thought it was FBI, but then I realized the car wasn't a regulation sedan. It was a sporty, European make."

"Hold that thought," he ordered me before taking out his cell and placing a call.

I heard him questioning someone where the FBI had been when I'd made my little getaway. I also saw the frown on Ranger's brow as he got his answers. Telling them off in no uncertain terms, he hit the button on the phone without saying goodbye.

He then hit another button, and I knew he was speaking to a Rangeman employee. When he completed that call, he focused back on me and explained the first call.

"Bathroom break. Then, the FBI guy was distracted by the noise out front. He went to check it out, but by the time he noticed you were gone, it was too late to follow. My men had the tracking going, and they did notify me of some erratic moves, but you'd called in by then to let us know you were on your way. Heads will roll!"

"No! Please don't get some poor guy fired over this! I've seen enough heads rolling to last me forever!"

From his quizzical expression, I knew I had to confess another moment of teenager-like behavior.

"I watched a horror movie earlier. There were lots and lots of headless bodies."

His mouth twitched up at the corners.

"Promise me no one gets fired." My eyes gave off my most beseeching look.

"Don't worry B—" Throwing his hands up in an I-give-up motion, he gave a slight nod. "I promise."

"Thanks."

"Finish your recap. Don't leave anything out."

"I tested him to make sure he was unwanted company. I didn't want to panic for nothing. When there was no doubt in my mind, I got on the freeway to try to lose the son of a bitch."

"Then what happened next?"

"He unnerved me via a phone call on my cell that I managed to put on speaker. It was more threats of him wanting me and knowing he would have me soon."

"What did you say?"

"I asked what the hell he wanted with me, and why he was after me."

"And?"

"And he rammed Big Blue along the driver's side, so I faked him out and got off the freeway. I hid in the industrial section of town, thinking I'd lost him. He came sneaking up behind me. I peeled out and did a bit of the specialty stunt driving Eddie Gazarra taught me. I even knocked down the steel Meridian on the freeway."

"With Big Blue? Impressive."

"I knew I had to come here. I couldn't go to the precinct where Joe's being kept."

"Why did you come on foot when you could've driven right up to the gate?"

"No. I couldn't! I didn't know what the jackass had in his car. He might have had a machine gun or explosives or God knows what! There was no way in hell I was going to put you or your men or even your building in grave danger because of my own stupid, selfish behavior. For God's sake, three of your men are _already_ risking their lives for me and Joe."

"Steph, that's what we do."

"I know. I couldn't have lived with myself if anything happened to any of you because of my immature, lack of willpower. After seeing what happened to Joe yesterday—I don't know how I'm even going to put one foot in front of the other if anything happens to Tank, Cal or Hector. And Joe, God, what if I lose him—"

Ranger tilted his head and his eyes softened slightly.

"I know yesterday was a tough day."

"It was probably the worst day of my life. Not being able to be with Joe afterward—"

"Continue. You lost the nutcase. You started out on foot. Then what happened?"

I could tell he was trying to keep me focused on the present.

Swiping my hand across my aching forehead, I continued, "I _thought_ I'd lost him. I was edging my way toward Haywood and staying in the darkness as much as possible. I'd heard a car door slam hard in the distance, and, at one point, a cat jumped down in front of me causing me to scream. I heard his footsteps coming behind me and took off like a bat out of hell. He caught up to me, and I felt his hand on my shoulder trying to pull me back. I fought him off like mad. When he lost his hold on me, I sprinted like crazy toward Rangeman as fast as I could. When I ran into you, I thought he'd found me again."

"Nice death grip."

"Thanks." I grinned, because obviously my Police Academy training had paid off.

"With all that physical activity, you've probably worked up an appetite."

"I could eat." I was surprised to find my body and my stomach had calmed down considerably.

"Come on." He extended his hand to help me up. "Let's get some food into you. Ella should have your clothes coming, and Lester is going to bring something I need for you to take another look at."

"What?"

"It's a picture of the evidence found at the scene of the supermarket attack. I showed it to you in the hospital, but I doubt you remember. You said you'd never seen it before. You were pretty heavily medicated at the time, so I'd like to see if it rings a bell now that you're more lucid."

"Okay." I had only a vague recollection of being shown something in a plastic bag at the hospital.

Just then Ella came in with my clothing. She told us the fifth floor apartment was ready and waiting for me, and gave me the key to it.

Lester chose that same time to pop in and hand something to Ranger. Ranger asked him to take care of getting my car back to my apartment. Lester gave me a reassuring smile and a friendly wink before taking his leave.

Ella assembled some turkey sandwiches, fresh fruit and yogurt. She talked quietly to Ranger about breakfast, offering to wait until later to serve us, since it was nearly two in the morning. Nodding at me silently, she left to go back to bed. She was like the magic maid, appearing and disappearing as needed.

Ranger held the enlarged photo of a seemingly torn piece of paper. Upon closer examination, it appeared to be a part of a business card. I could see the dried blood around the edges and made out the two letters, c and k along with a funny half symbol that made no impression on me at all.

"Anything?"

"Nope, I've never seen it before."

"We ran a check of the letters against any gangs in the New Jersey State Prison System. There were two gangs that fit the alphabet letters here. One was the Black Snakes the other is the Whack Jobs. We found NO symbols even remotely matching this one to either of them. We have a dead end. If you had told me about those calls, we might have gotten somewhere by now."

"I'm an idiot."

"That's enough self-condemnation. It won't get you anywhere, and you can't change what's done. You made a mistake—maybe two of them. We're moving on from here."

"I don't even want to know what Joe will say."

"He'll say, 'that's the woman of my dreams—go figure'!"

"You're so damned good to me. Joe's nothing but good to me too. How did I get so lucky?"

"Must be the Irish in you."

He shook his head knowing full well there was no Irish in me, but the idea of Irish sent my thoughts in a new and not so wonderful direction. I decided it was as good of a time as any to get some answers I'd been wanting for some time.

"Speaking of Irish."

"Uh oh."

"Yeah, don't you think it's high time you fill me in on Kate/Meghan?"

"Not necessarily."

"The green eyed witch from hell is her _real_ name if you ask me!"

"It doesn't sound like you have a very high opinion of Morelli's new wife."

"That's a huge understatement. I can't stand her!"

"Because she married him?"

"No, because she's a heartless, lying, backstabbing piece of work, and I want claw her eyes out."

"_And_ she married Morelli when you wanted him to marry you."

"That too," I admitted forlornly.

"It was for your protection," he reminded me needlessly.

"If I hear that lame, half-ass excuse one more time—"

He cut me off. "What is it you need to know?"

"How long have you known her? When was your fling with her? How long did it last, and was it at the same time—"

"That's a slew of questions. No. It was nowhere near you. That's all you need to know."

I took the last bite of the yogurt, but I was far from satisfied.

"At least tell me how long ago you met her and how long it lasted?"

"Six years ago and for a little over two years," he responded, annoyingly succinct as always.

"Was it serious? Two years is hardly a fling?"

"It was what it was."

"Why in the hell did you pick _her _to be Joe's wife?"

"She's very good at what she does."

"Oh really! And what exactly did she do for you, because apparently she was only too happy to do it for Joe too on their wedding night!"

"What?" Ranger's voice went deadly quiet.

"Oh yeah, little Mrs. M decided to let me in on the fact that she and Joe were not an "in name only" couple."

"You're telling me that Morelli and Meghan had sex?"

"She inferred that if I were to ask Joe, he would not be able to deny that something had happened on their wedding night."

"I don't believe it. Why would she try to hurt you like that? She's here to do a job."

"Good question. And so far I haven't had the chance to look Joe in the eye, as she suggested, so I don't know the truth."

My eyes filled because the possibility that Joe had given into a moment of weakness with another woman filled me with raging pain. I knew it made me a total hypocrite. But I could hardly breathe whenever the imagined picture filled my head. I hated like hell having to let one moment of doubt into our newly found happiness. Karma was a bitch.

"That was not supposed to have happened. No wonder you needed a candy bar."

"So can you please tell me what you ever saw in that catty, heartless bitch?"

"You really want to know?"

"_Yes._ Do you have any idea what it does to me to think of them being married? He's never married anyone. I always thought that if he did, it would be me."

"He felt the same way. We came to blows the day I presented the idea."

"You hit him?" Suddenly the mystery of Joe's bruised face that day at his house became crystal clear.

"He hit me first. We had a bonding moment."

I laughed out loud. "I bet that's not what Joe called it."

My laughter died. "Ranger, I need to know what Kate meant to you and why, because right now I can see no earthly reason why any man would want one thing to do with her—ever."

"It's not worth talking about." Per usual, he'd offered me nothing.

"There's _something._ I can see it in your eyes. You had real feelings for her?"

"Steph, let it go."

"I can't! I have to know. Besides, I could really use something to take my mind off my own idiocy tonight. Hearing more about yours would help a lot," I joked, but my eyes begged him to tell me.

He ignored my dig. "You're not going to like it."

"Try me."

"Well to be honest, I think what first attracted me to you was the same thing I'd found in Meghan."

_He was right. I hated it. _

"You've got to be kidding? We're nothing alike!"

"Yeah, you are. You're both feisty, kick-ass women. You have street smarts, and yet you're soft and vulnerable. There's an undeniably sweet and appealing feminine side in both of you."

"Okay, already, I get it. What was it like in the relationship?"

"It was good. She was warm and affectionate, and we spent as much time as we could together. I changed my schedule to meet her as much as I possible. She gave me every spare moment she had. It was quality with us not quantity."

"Were you in love with her? Was she in love with you?"

"Steph—"

"Oh my God! You _were_ in love with her!"

"It wasn't what you think. I know my limitations with relationships."

"Who ended it?"

"I did."

"How?"

"It doesn't matter."

"You just stopped seeing her, didn't you. Without a word?"

"How do you know that?"

"Because _I_ think that _she_ thinks _I_ was the reason for the break."

"What? That's ludicrous!"

"No, it makes perfect sense. Think about it. Four years ago you stopped seeing her, and that's when I came into your life." Suddenly it all became crystal clear. "My God! She went after Joe to get back at _you and me!"_

"No. Meg isn't like that."

"Oh, isn't she?" I asked sarcastically, totally enthralled with my own conclusions.

"This is getting us nowhere. You need to get some rest. Trust me—if Meghan has pulled something on either of us, I will get to the bottom of it."

"Is she still in love with you?"

"I hardly think so. She can't stand the sight of me."

"Fine line."

"Not this time. I'll walk you to your apartment. End of discussion."

I knew when limits had been reached with Ranger, and mine had gone a few notches above the norm. He'd always been more generous and open about his life with me than most. At least I'd gotten a few answers. I wasn't ready to stop getting them, but Ranger was right—as exhausted as I felt, there would be time at a later date.

Joe's POV

I got up, feeling like I'd been steamrolled a hundred times over, and brushed my teeth. Splashing water on my grizzly, bearded face, I stared at myself in the mirror.

I was the same guy. I was still a cop. I hadn't done anything wrong, but after all the verbal abuse and the physical pounding I'd taken, it was hard not to feel as though I'd done something purely evil.

Weird.

Was it my Italian-Catholic inborn guilt-induced upbringing that caused me to feel that way all the time? Probably that, and having had to deal constantly with the degrading, demeaning words and actions of my father. Guilt had been a part of my daily existence for years. Shaking off those old inferior feelings of never having been good enough to deserve a happy life were re-surfacing in me. I'd already fought the battles, but apparently the war was yet to be won.

I needed to focus on the fact that I was doing a job. The woeful looking man in the mirror was NOT me. The bars around me were not my reality or a prison of any kind.

I was feeling a little lost—that's all—and missing the hell out of Stephanie, So far I'd been unable to shed the worry that'd been brought on by my dreams of her.

Big Dog and Carl chose that moment to walk by my cell, barely wanting to make eye contact. That hurt. They'd been lifelong friends.

I tried to blow out the frustration I felt.

The guys turned toward me with venom in their eyes. I knew it wasn't their fault that they believed everything that had been engineered for them to accept as truth.

"If it isn't Jailbird Joe! How is it being on the other side of the bars?" Big Dog taunted, his hostility completely unhidden.

"It's what you'd expect."

"Yeah, well you deserve worse," he spat back.

"Thanks for the love," I said sarcastically.

"Come on, Big Dog. We have better things to do," Carl said, looking back at me as if he still couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

Big Dog changed his mind and turned around. "You know? I think Morelli might enjoy seeing what we saw late last night." He pulled out his phone.

"No, Big Dog—don't bother. Joe's married to someone else now."

"Well I think he should see how his little _Cupcake_ has moved on fairly quickly, or should the words be moved _back_?"

Carl tried to grab the phone. "He's got a wife, and Stephanie's life is her business."

I could hardly keep from grabbing through the bars for Big Dog's phone myself. I didn't have to worry though, because he was only too happy to show it to me.

"She was in his arms last night. I have the proof. We were patrolling the area."

My gut twisted. _That couldn't be._ Last night? Stephanie wouldn't have ventured out so late. I saw the time imprinted on the picture. Ranger was holding her in his arms and had his fucking hand on her cheek. They were so damned close there wasn't air enough between them.

I forced myself to stay stoic and said nothing. But my thoughts were so loud; it was a wonder the whole world hadn't been blasted away by them.

"And this!" Big Dog hit his thumb on the screen to go to the next picture.

Shit!

It was a side view. He'd lifted her into his arms, which were now draped lovingly around his neck.

Fuck!

What in the hell was this? I hadn't been in on this part of the plan! It was all I could do to maintain my cool.

"See, Morelli—I guess she ended up with the _best_ man after all! And by the way, we saw her car parked a few blocks away before I got those pictures. It was still there when we got off duty this morning. There's no doubt about it—she spent a memorable night with that Superhero of hers!"

Big Dog was going to live to regret having opened his filthy mouth to me. If possible now, I'd grab him by the neck and order him to take the smug look off his face and shut the hell up!

"That's enough, Big Dog. We have to get upstairs and get those overnight duty reports filled out, or Michaels will send out a friggin' search party." Carl avoided eye contact with me.

After they disappeared around the corner, I sat down hard on narrow bed, feeling as though the air had been knocked out of me. There had to be an explanation.

_Yeah you stupid chump. The explanation is pretty fucking obvious_.

The Joe that felt worthless at times was getting a pretty good hold on me again. Perhaps he should take me over. Why the hell not!

She was at Manoso's all night long? Their kiss by the garage the evening she'd accepted that diamond watch came flying back into my head. I wished to God I had a copy of the pictures Big Dog had shown me, so I could torture myself over them.

She loved me! She'd said she did. She'd made love to me like she did! I _knew_ she did.

Would these fucking insecurities about her and Ranger ever totally go away? Every time I thought they were gone, something else happened to bring them crashing back. I had no way of contacting Steph. I had no way of finding anything out. It might be shittin' months before I could look her in the eye and ask her what the hell had happened last night.

In the mean time, I was supposed to twiddle my thumbs and try to heal my physical body while all these festering wounds inside my head and heart got more and more infected. My life was becoming hell on earth for certain!

Ranger's POV

I'd never admit it to anyone, but ever since Meghan had come to Trenton, I've awakened every morning with her in my head, and this morning was no different. I didn't know where the damned thoughts were even coming from—the feel of her silky head buried into the crook of my arm early in the morning or her fingers on the back of my neck and the softness of her lips against mine.

DAMN IT!

I shook myself physically, trying to rid my brain of her unwanted infiltration. All that did was bring a new picture to mind—Meghan with Morelli.

I'd tossed and turned the night before with that sickening image in my head. Was it true? It couldn't be. Meghan was here to do her job. She was a professional. If she had developed honest-to-God-feelings for that idiot, I'd be very surprised. He wasn't her type at all.

I had a very hard time believing anything could have happened between them, because Morelli was doing most of what he was doing for Stephanie's safety.

I'd seen the look in his eyes right before he'd hit me that day at the precinct. If any poor bastard was ever in love, it was him. No. Meg must've been lying to Steph.

But why?

Determined to force my mind off the Meghan/Morellli madness, I acknowledged how odd it was to realize Stephanie had spent the night in the apartment just below mine. I'd never expected to share the same sleeping quarters with her again. I really hadn't. She and Morelli were heading toward solid and completely permanent ground—finally. I felt okay about that. I'd made my peace with it. I wanted the best for them.

She'd been so hard on herself the night before. I knew it had been careless behavior on her part. I'd seen her face the day she'd watched Morelli get beaten and shot. She'd been under tremendous stress. Plenty of people had done crazier things due to anxiety.

I was doing everything in my power to see that Morelli lived to fight another day. Respect for that badass cop was making it hard for me to hate him as much. There was _no_ doubt now that he was committed to her. It made Meg's claims about their having had a "honeymoon" seem even more ridiculous.

After showering and shaving, I dressed in my usual Rangeman black and made my way out to the kitchen where Ella had left her usual healthy repast. Stephanie said she'd be down by nine to eat with me before I had Lester take her safely home. I felt fairly confident she wouldn't venture out again without someone to ensure her utmost safety.

Stephanie knocked and then opened the door. She was wearing the black shorts and the Rangeman T-shirt Ella had provided her with the night before. Hair hanging in wet tendrils from her morning shower; she greeted me with her usual morning enthusiasm.

"Ola." Her eyes looked sleepy still, and she wasn't in the greatest of moods.

"How did you sleep?" I asked.

"Better than I'd expected to."

"No bad dreams?"

"Who needs bad dreams when you've got my life?" she rolled her eyes.

"True."

"Thanks for coming to my rescue—again."

"It's no big deal."

"Yeah, it's just part of the day in an average Superhero's life."

"Average?" My eyebrow rose sardonically.

Grabbing a grape, she popped it into her mouth.

"Below average?" she asked, her eyes getting a bit of the usual twinkle back.

"Good to know some things will never change." The easy sarcastic repartee was a relief. I didn't want to lose that.

"Ba—Steph, you can still call me when you get in trouble—at least while Morelli is away. He'd want you safe above all else."

"Aren't you getting tired of me yet?"

"Truth?"

"Yeah—always."

"You've kind of become a habit I can't give up—it's damned annoying."

"Ranger—"

"I know." I put my hand up to stop her from telling me what I already knew too well.

"I feel the same irritation about you," she said affectionately.

"You'll call me if you need anything?" Our eyes met and locked for a short moment.

"Well, there is something I need pretty badly," she informed me, breaking the seriousness.

"What is it?" If there was something I could do for her, I would.

"Toothpaste." She held up her guest's toothbrush. "There wasn't any downstairs."

"You know where it is."

She nodded, smiling gratefully, and headed for my bathroom.

It was difficult not to think of the first time I'd found her interloping in my bed. She'd made herself right at home when she'd been running from the Slayer's gang. I'd been amused by it more than anything. She'd cleverly figured out where my "Batcave", as she loved calling it, was located.

I'd known she was there right away. Tank had informed me. It'd been really nice coming home to someone who had ingratiated herself into my heart without me even realizing it. Now everything had changed, and it would never be like that again. But I couldn't help the nostalgic look back.

My thoughts were rudely interrupted by an unexpected knock on the apartment door.

I opened it, surprised to find Max, one of my new men, with Meghan in tow. She looked delectable in light khaki jeans and a silky, button-up, purple blouse. She had on a full-length, chocolate, leather duster coat and matching boots. She'd make Indiana Jones a perfect partner. The only thing missing was the hat. I knew from plenty of experience, that her 'whip' was her smart-ass tongue.

Good. This would save me a summons. I'd been planning on getting some answers from her the first chance I had.

Max nervously explained he'd tried my phone to alert me of her arrival, but apparently I'd turned it off—a rarity for me.

As Meghan came inside, Stephanie also re-entered the kitchen.

_Shit_

Two alpha women in the same room—both of whom I'd shared my most intimate moments with. Maybe I was having a nightmare. If so, I prayed I'd wake up soon.

"I didn't realize you had an _overnight_ guest." Meg's green eyes flashed as her hand pushed back her bronze hair. Her wedding rings glinted in the light, and I felt my stomach do an uncomfortable lurch. I wasn't used to seeing those on her finger anymore than Stephanie was, and, by the look on her face, they may as well have been a signal to attack.

"I didn't realize Ranger had another guest coming for breakfast? Does your _husband_ know you're here?" Stephanie asked with ire in her eyes.

"Does he know_ you_ are?" Meg shot back with equal derision.

"Uh, ladies. Are you both hungry? There's plenty for three."

These things were not supposed to happen to me.

Both of them ignored me, preferring to stare one another down. A catfight wasn't far away.

I pushed on Stephanie's back lightly to take a seat at the table, holding out her chair. Doing the same for Meg, I placed myself strategically (or stupidly) between them. In less than two days time, both women had put me close to death's door—one with a knife ready to slit my throat and the other about to strangle me. I'd been through many battles and street fights in my time, and, for some reason, that breakfast ranked up there with the worst of them.

We sat in tense silence. I offered each of them blueberry or bran muffins. Stephanie chose blueberry, and Kate did too. Great! They liked eating the same things. This was just too strange. I offered bagels and cream cheese, and they both took those too. When I offered fruit, they made the exact same selections, and they both refused the yogurt.

Jesus, was I in some weird mirrored universe? I owed Morelli for this big time. I wasn't sure why, but I'd find a way to make him pay for this!

They ate—never taking their eyes off one another. I'd lost my appetite before we'd even begun to eat. I had one hand ready on my cell phone and one on my gun. There was no telling which I'd need first.

I tried to make an effort at conversation. "Meghan, is there any news on the leaks with the press?"

"It was an anonymous informant, calling from a—"

"Fuck! Let me guess, an untraceable cell phone. There's a lot of that going around these days."

"Yeah. But I might have someone who can get me some inside info. I should have it by this afternoon. If it pans out, we'd know what news affiliate was approached first, along with whether it was a man or a woman that tipped them off. We'll be able to narrow down the suspects—_sex_ wise at least." She gave Stephanie a pointed gaze as she uttered the word sex.

_What a fun morning._

"Good. What about distracting the press into following something bigger and better?"

"Working on that too," she said, while spreading gross amounts of cream cheese over the bagel.

She'd always driven me crazy with how she'd take the healthiest thing and make it totally unappealing with the crap she'd added to it. A baked potato had to be drenched in butter and burgeoning in sour cream, bacon bits, cheese and broccoli. She would laugh at my green face, explaining the broccoli she'd added somehow made the rest A-okay.

I found myself smiling for no apparent reason, thinking of the things we'd shared, tolerated, and yes, even eventually had come to love about each other.

Stephanie glared at Kate, and then at me. _What the hell had I done to deserve a glare? _

After the glower, it dawned on me that Steph was probably so damned jealous of Meghan having been by Joe's side two days ago non-stop. She'd probably wanted to wring her neck. Obviously that was the only place Steph had wanted to be.

I gave her a perusing look and knew by the misery in her eyes, I was on target.

"Meghan, any word from Morelli?"

"No. Last I saw him the pain meds were working some, but he wasn't looking forward to the narrow, hard mattresses he had in his future."

I saw Steph's eyes close then reopen, filled with dewy moisture. She nodded to me slightly.

"So are you going to see him today?"

Meghan looked from me directly into Stephanie's eyes.

"I don't know. Is there something _you_ want me to tell him, if I do?" she asked Stephanie point blank.

The situation was quickly becoming volatile again.

Stephanie glowered at Meg. I sensed very little was keeping her from jumping across the table to take Meg into a wrestling match on the floor. Meg scowled back.

Silence

I scrambled for a diversionary tactic. "Steph would probably love to send him one, but there's nothing you can say out loud, if someone were to overhear it—"

"Joe _knows _what I need him to know already," Steph informed Meghan in no uncertain terms.

_Explosive moment averted. Good time to breathe. _

"Okay then, I guess I should get back to—"

Meg had started to push her chair back, but halted when I held my hand up to prevent her departure.

"I have a few more things I'd like to discuss with you after breakfast. Stephanie is going back home in just a bit."

"What? You can't say them in front of me?" Steph was immediately on the defensive and royally pissed. "I have a right to know what's going on. I know everything anyway, and Joe doesn't want me left out of the loop."

"This is just fine-tuning the details of an upcoming meeting. You'd be bored to death. Trust me, Stephanie."

I gave her a look and a tilted eyebrow that was letting her know I wanted her gone. She returned my look with an unappreciative frown. Getting up, she turned back toward me.

"Thanks, Ranger—it was comforting to be in a familiar place last night."

By the look Meg gave us, I knew she was trying to figure out what kind of comfort Stephanie had received and where.

I would've welcomed one of my into-the-wind moments right then.

After the door closed behind Stephanie, there was an awkwardly deafening silence. Meg clearly thought Steph and I had spent the night together. Even though it was none of her business, if Morelli found out Steph and I had spent intimate time together, under any circumstances, I had no doubt it could be detrimental to their furthering a committed relationship. The last thing the two of them needed was more to stress out about.

"Meghan."

I'd always called her Meghan or Meg or the nickname I'd given her after we'd first spent our first night together.

Cobre—Spanish for copper.

Her hair wasn't red or auburn. It was the color of burnished copper, matching her fiery personality. We'd sparred in the past, and it'd always ended in one place. That had been years ago. It was all behind us, which was exactly, where it needed to remain. I poured us both some orange juice and raised my glass. She gave me a questioning look and raised hers in kind.

"Cheers! What should we be drinking to—your hopeless infatuation with Joe Morelli? Or, how about the fact you're doing everything you can to fuck up things for Stephanie Plum—the woman I brought you into this job to _protect_?"

"The woman who's your obsessive infatuation?" she jabbed back, as only she could.

"My feelings are none of your business. I have nothing to say to you about them."

"Oh, that's a shocker." She laughed facetiously, while setting her glass down hard. Her gorgeous eyes shuttered the pain I'd always seen in them—even when she'd tried valiantly to hide it.

"Whatever plan you have to come between the two of them is to stop immediately. Do you understand?" I ordered in my most militant voice.

"Oh, I understand. So, now along with being the jilted occasional lover, you've decided to become Joe and Stephanie's greatest champion? How exactly is that working for you? Doesn't it interfere with having her naked in your bed at the same time?" She spun around and nailed me verbally to the wall.

She got up from her chair and turned to point a finger in my direction. "You're _such fucking _a hypocrite! You stand there telling _me_ to lay off them after the years you've spent trying to lure her away with your mysteriously wealthy lifestyle. I know all about how you tempted her with your expensive cars and tracked her every move in the name of protecting her. You'd have given her whatever you could to make her fall in love with you. You knew damned well Joe could _never_ have provided her with that kind of wealth and power. You laid it at her fingertips, and then you sat back and waited for her to fall under your magnetic spell."

"You know nothing about me or my feelings or motives for doing anything."

"Carlos, I don't think _anyone_ knows you better than I do. You did the same damned thing to me. What did you do—wine her, dine her and have Ella make all of her favorites? I've been there, remember?"

Her eyes flashed. "I know all about the fancy private jets flying off to Paris on a whim just to have dinner. Shopping trips to buy a brand new wardrobe when I didn't even know to where I was being whisked off. You know _exactly_ how to seduce a woman into falling in love. It's just a fucking game to you, costing you nothing but_ money_!"

"Why are you doing this to Stephanie?" I asked, already surmising the answer.

"Is _she _all you care about anymore? Your little brown-haired—blue-eyed fixation?"

"I asked you a question."

"And maybe I don't feel like answering it! What makes you think you have the right to ask anything of anyone when you barely give out your name, rank and fucking serial number to them?"

"What happened to you, Meghan? You didn't used to be so cold. When I first met you, there was so much warmth in you. There was such sweetness to you—not jaded like you are now. And you sure as hell cared about doing what was right. You'd been through a lot of pain, but you weren't this cynical back then. Where did the woman I used to know go?"

"_YOU_ happened—you son of a bitch! And my ex-husband, and every single loser I've ever had the sad misfortune to care about in my life."

"So you're angry at all men—not just me?"

"Why wouldn't I be? Where do you all get off? The colossal nerve your whole species has to treat a woman as though she's nothing more than a plaything?" Her hands went out in frustration to push her hair behind her ear.

"I don't think of women as playthings."

"Bullshit—that's _all_ you do! We're _all _just warm bodies for you to bury yourself in. We're not allowed to have needs, feelings or dreams. Hell, I don't think men even consider we're human. You're all the same!"

Those same agitated hands clenched in fists at her hips.

"You acted like coming and going in and out of my life at your whim was no big deal. Well, let me tell you, Carlos, you ignorant, stupid excuse for a man. It was a _big fucking deal_!"

"Meg." I tried to interrupt her intense tirade by using the shortened nickname. She was pacing now, and I leaned my back against the wall, unused to these kinds of uncontrolled emotional outbursts from her.

"I shouldn't have been surprised. When I was married, my husband would leave and not even call me for weeks at a time. He'd be out on an assignment, and when he went into work mode, I no longer existed. He wanted the obedient subservient wife at home, while he played agent double zero seven all over the world. Well, he was a zero all right! I found out he'd had women waiting for him all over the globe."

She paused in her roaming to glare at me. "Why the hell did he even marry me? I didn't ask him to propose. I didn't put a gun to his head. If he was planning to cheat the entire time, why did he ask me to marry him? Why? Why does every single man I've ever met want to hurt me?"

"Cobre." My Spanish word for her slipped from my lips.

"Don't you _dare_ call me that!" her eyes shot flames at me.

"I thought—"

She wasn't about to let me speak. "You came along when I wasn't looking for a man. I should've run from you like hell when you said you wanted no commitment, no emotional connection—nothing to complicate your miserable life."

She folded her hands in front of her chest. "I'm not a fucking complication, Ranger! I'm a woman who has needs and feelings, and I don't want to be a fucking sex toy for you or any other man—ever again!"

"You need to calm down, and _we_ need to get back to business."

"No. I don't want to calm down, you bastard! I want you to know what you and every blasted man I've met has done to me. You don't get off scot free the way you think you do. You have that dark, black past of yours that motivates you to want to erase all your wrong doings and make the slate clean. But let me tell YOU something. The way you treated me, and the way you treat just about every other person on this planet isn't going to erase your Karmic debt. It's going to pile it on—thick!"

I opened my mouth to speak, and she steamrolled right over me.

"You can't play with the emotions of other people by pretending they don't exist, because you won't allow yourself to acknowledge them or ever feel _anything_ in return. You go around breaking hearts like it's a hobby, And your latest trick was to come between a beautiful couple—Stephanie and Joe. Those two were meant to be together from childhood! You have a lot of nerve coming after me, for what you've done yourself!"

Her eyes went feral and knowing. "Go look in a freaking mirror, Ranger. Your guilt should _far_ outweigh mine, because you've known all along how much in love they were! _Nothing_ stopped you from trying to pull her away from him. Let me guess, you told her you loved her, but you could never commit to her. That's like putting a red cape to a bull's eyes. Any woman wants to be THE ONE that will change your twisted mind and heart."

Again, I opened my mouth to speak, but gave up. It was clear she wasn't going to allow me to get a word in until she'd had her say.

"What do you think that does to a woman's ego, let alone her heart? Do you ever look into the eyes of the people you refuse to love back? Do you even give a shit? Your soul is headed straight for hell if you keep pushing people away who want nothing more than to love you and be loved by you. Life is short, and we're here for a limited time. Do you think when you die it will matter how much Karma you undid by engineering more every single day with those that loved you. Love is what matters. I knew that growing up, but now, I've lost everything that was important."

She stopped momentarily, because tears were cascading down her cheeks. I wanted to reach out and wipe them away. I'd never had a woman bare her soul to me like that. What I still felt for her scared the shit out of me. I didn't dare touch her; because I couldn't be sure I'd stop once I had.

"Carlos, what matters most is being truthful and honest. You need to be able to stand to live in your own skin. I _hate_ myself now. I want the real me back. I don't even know how I'm going to get _her_ back. If I live through this crazy mess—and I'm under no illusions that you even care about that—I'm done. This is my last assignment with the FBI."

My eyes must have given some barely perceptible flicker, because she nodded. "I'm going to find Meghan Sullivan again. And when I do, I'm not going to let one damn minute go by that isn't real and honest and loving—not _ever _again. Even if it means being _alone_ for the rest of my life, because I no longer believe there _is _a man out there for me who can _ever_ give me what I need. They're too damned busy getting what they want to ever care about that!"

"That's it." _Damn it, woman—let me speak!_

She shook her head, forcing herself to continue through the tears. "Joe Morelli is the ONE exception to that rule. He loves Stephanie like there's no tomorrow unconditionally, and he's never afraid to express it or say it to anyone. Sadly, he's no longer free to do so—and he's doing this potentially deadly assignment because of his love for her. Do you know what it would do to him to find out she was in _your _bed last night?"

That did it!

My words shot out. "She wasn't _with_ me. She came here, because she was scared out of her mind. That attacker from the parking lot is back. He's stalking her, so I took her in for the night. She was in an apartment on the fifth floor. This morning she came up to have breakfast and didn't have any toothpaste. She borrowed mine, and that's IT!"

_Why the hell did I feel like I was being accused of being a cheating husband?_

Meghan was shocked. "The Bureau was supposed to have someone on her!"

"Tell me about it. Your guy took a break. He didn't even know she'd left."

"Why didn't you call me?"

"It was late. What would you be able to do after the fact?" I asked.

"She slept in another apartment?" There was still suspicion.

"Yes. She didn't even want to stay here." For some damned reason I wanted her to believe me. Usually I could give a rat's ass about what anyone thought of me.

"You better be telling the truth, or I can tell you when Joe gets out and gets wind that anything else has happened between you two—you're a dead man!"

"_Nothing happened_. I know she loves him. I'm not trying to split them up!"

"You better not be. Neither am I—not anymore," she admitted. "I envy the two of them so much!"

"Meg, just let me speak." I tried again, but she wouldn't have it.

"I want something genuine and permanent and someone who wants to call me _every _minute we're apart and share _everything_ with me. I want a man who wants to be my best friend—my lover—my soul mate—the way Joe is with Stephanie."

My mouth opened only to close once again. Did that woman ever take a breath?

"That's what they have—what I wanted. Maybe that's why I've been so _damned _jealous of it. And if you were being truthful, Carlos, you are too. It's not only Stephanie that you wanted. You wanted the life they have—or had—until all of this shit came in to spoil it. If he doesn't make it out alive, they'll have had more than most people ever know. Theirs is a deep, long-lasting love that's been put through the test of fire, misunderstandings, mistrust and infidelity. Yet it's still come out shining. I don't think you or I could change it, no matter what we did."

I nodded. She was speaking the truth.

"It's sad for us. I know you're still in love with her, and for a time I thought I was in love with Joe. But I know now that I'm here—I'm not."

_Now that she was here?_ _What the hell did that mean?_ I was still trying to piece this puzzle that had become Meghan together.

"I think I was more in love with the _idea_ of him and wanting someone like him in my life. They don't need flashy, false materialistic things to be happy. They only need each other."

"Good, I'm glad you see that," I said relieved Meghan had seen the light.

"Do you see it, Carlos? She loves him to distraction and he loves her. You will _never_ have her. You can wish, hope and dream it to death, but it's _not _going to happen."

"Are you through?" I asked, my voice leaden.

_Apparently not._

"I know you dumped me practically the day you met her. Remember four years ago when you stopped calling or showing up. Did you think I was stupid? You fell for her the minute you saw her. Did you even think of me, or did I quickly become a distant memory? You couldn't even give me the time of day, let alone an explanation for why things ended between us."

"You knew the score going in. I never lied to you about what we were or weren't. You said you wanted the same thing."

"I would have told you _anything _you wanted to hear, Carlos, just to _be_ with you."

"I didn't know—"

"That's how stupid I was." Her self-recrimination stopped me from speaking further. "Didn't you ever think I deserved some closure? I had NO idea why you stopped talking to me or visiting me. I thought I'd done something or said something. I tortured myself over it, until I was sick. Did you even give a flying fuck?"

I didn't want to feel the pain I'd inflicted. Damn it! I couldn't afford to let her get to me the way she had from the beginning. I never should've taken a second look at her. I should've known she'd be trouble for a very long time to come. That coppery hair and those sparkling, green eyes of hers had over-ruled my common sense years ago. Worse yet, I felt it weakening by the minute right now. I was shocked to feel hot sparks of pain infiltrating my heart. Where in the hell were they coming from?

"Let's get back to the subject at hand." I wanted to get my mind back on business.

"Oh, isn't that just like you. I tell you I had feelings and you gloss over them like they didn't mean a damn thing to you. We were lovers, Carlos—_LOVERS! _That word meant something to me."

"It was sex, Meghan. Two lonely people in shitty, demanding careers. We both needed release and companionship. That's all it ever was."

"You're such a goddamned, deluded liar! You were in love with _me!_ I saw it in your eyes. Do you know how it feels _never_ to _hear_ it from the person you love; _never_ to be able to _say_ it when you love someone? I was _madly_ in love with you, and it was like being in a torture chamber the whole time!"

"This isn't productive for either of us. Would you please stop bringing up the past?"

"Why? Are you afraid you might _feel _something?"

"I'm not afraid of anything."

"Why didn't you even call me or write me a note or _say_ anything?"

"I told you from the first day, I didn't know if it would last more than one night."

"It lasted over two fucking years, you jackass!"

"I thought it was best not to prolong it or rehash it. When it was over it was over."

"You're a cold, heartless bastard, you know that? Or at least you want everyone to think you are. But _I_ know you, Carlos, and I know you wanted to be with me right up until the moment you met _her_!" she reproached me, her eyes filled with tears.

I knew Meghan was a tough cookie, and I'd hardly ever seen her cry. Twice in one day told me how deeply in pain she really was.

Shit! This was not why I'd brought her here. We needed to stay on point. I took a stance determined to stop this right then before I did something I was pretty sure I'd regret.

"I want you to apologize to both Stephanie and Morelli. You stop fucking with their lives to get back at me. If you've got a vendetta with me, then let's just keep it between us. Stephanie has never done _anything _to deserve this animosity and scheming you've been pulling. This is just pure shit, Meghan, and you know it! You were brought here to do nothing but protect her. You are the best at what you do, and I handpicked you for that. Don't go screwing this up for some personal bullshit that doesn't even matter anymore."

"I'll say I'm sorry when hell turns to ice like your miserable heart has!" she spat.

"You'll do as I ask."

"Never! You don't get to order me around. I'm not working for you. You'd be the last person I earth I'd _ever _take orders from!"

Grabbing her by the elbows, I wanted to shake the rebellion right out of her. I was livid. Her emerald eyes were filled with defiance, and something I'd refused to see—pain—more pain than when I'd first met her.

Pain inflicted by me.

She didn't try to pull away, or break eye contact. I couldn't tear my eyes from hers.

"When you came back to Boston and we had to work together on two separate occasions, why did you never even say one word to me? You treated me like one of the guys. You acted as though we were strangers." A gulping sob escaped her throat.

"Do you care what that did to me?"

"I didn't know—"

"You never _wanted _to know, Carlos, but I'm telling you anyway. I _loved_ you then. I felt like I couldn't breathe properly when you stopped seeing me. And when I'd see you afterward on those jobs, I wanted to run and hide in a corner. I didn't want to see your stony face and unfeeling eyes."

"I should—"_My God woman—give me a chance!_

"During our times together, we laughed, talked, danced, ate, swam and spent every spare waking moment together, _and_ we made mad passionate love until we slept wrapped up in one another. You kissed every inch of my skin and spoke Spanish to me. You taught me things I never known existed. How could you not _know_?"

She backed up from me, shrugging my hands away and my arms fell to the side.

"Don't worry, I won't do anything else to come between Stephanie and Joe. I think I was lashing out at her because you fell in love with her and fell out of love with me. It hurt like hell."

She seemed to have finally wound down. I took it as my cue to speak.

"I didn't even meet Stephanie until six months after I stopped coming to you. We didn't even get close for a several months after that. She was in the beginning stages of her relationship with Morelli. I tried hard to be happy for her, but I was selfish. She wasn't the reason I stopped us. You couldn't be more wrong about that."

"It doesn't matter anymore. Like you said, it's all in the past." She made a move to grab her coat.

I didn't think. For once in my life, I gave into the urges to feel what I was feeling without questioning or analyzing whether I deserved to have it or not.

Taking two strides to end the distance between us, I grasped her to me, plastering her body with mine against the wall. Taking the coat from her hands, I threw it across the room. I felt her trembling against me, and I wanted her more than I'd ever wanted her before. She'd told me she'd loved me, and I'd loved her! I still did.

My eyes engaged hers. We stood there for hot, boiling seconds. My mouth found hers, and my hands combed through the silkiness of her hair. I breathed her into me as though I'd been deprived of fresh air for years. She struggled against me, murmuring something like "let me go". But I couldn't—I wouldn't.

Slowly, as my kisses deepened, she wrapped her arms around me and opened up her lips, as ravenous for me as I was for her. Quick panting breaths and soft cries filled the room. I began to slowly unbutton her blouse, ready to swoop her up into my arms and head straight to the bedroom. I wanted to remove all the pain I'd inflicted in those beautiful emerald eyes that always had seen right through me.

Suddenly, I was ejected from her warmth. The force of her shove sent me sprawling toward the couch where I landed with a hard plunk.

"There's NO way in hell you will ever touch me again! If you think I'm going to fall for this shit—you're nuts! I'll never allow myself to be used like that without mutual love again as long as I live."

She swiped her lips with her hand to free herself of my touch. Grabbing her coat and purse, she exited my apartment, leaving me to feel the cold swoosh of empty air as the door slammed shut behind her.

Steph's POV

It was the beginning of another day, and I dreaded every one of them. My apartment felt so empty. I'd returned home and been a model prisoner for four whole days. Ranger—the nut—had instructed Lester to buy me a six-month supply of chocolate candy bars of every shape and size. He'd even had some chocolate imported from other countries.

I hadn't touched one bite of it.

I needed Joe. If I'd been truly honest that night of the candy bar debacle, I'd have admitted that nothing would ever come close to taking his place or filling the rapidly, escalating void in my heart.

Any day now I knew he'd be taken from that holding cell and thrown into another cell. Hoping that they'd at least wait till he was back to his normal strength and wellness before he was transferred, I needed to find out from Ranger if he knew when it was going to be.

The press had quieted down for the moment and nothing new had been shown on television. The FBI must have used their influence somehow to get it under control.

I was upset. I wasn't sure what was going on, but the last four nights at nine I'd tried really hard to get Morelli's messages, and nothing had come through my mind. The first two nights, after he'd been arrested, I'd felt like I'd heard his voice in my head. I'd known exactly what to say back to him. But since my return from Rangeman, I'd had to improvise and mostly make up my own responses—maybe because I still felt horribly guilty about everything.

I should've told Joe about my very first message from that stalking asshole. I regretted my actions and wished with all my heart I'd of stayed in and behaved myself as he'd told me to do in that second mental message of his. He knew me so damned well. It was one of the reasons I'd grown to love him so much. When a man pays that much attention to a woman, enough to know and anticipate her every move, it meant he was invested in her a zillion percent. I'd finally realized that.

I only worried that my ah-ha moment might have come too late.

A knock sounded at my door. I would've been grateful for just about any visitor—except the stalker or the damned press. Looking through the peephole, a smile came with the instant recognition. I opened the lock and undid the chain.

"Hi there stranger," he said, waving at me with the one finger that was holding the Donut Hole bag, while his other hand had a tray filled with our favorite coffees.

"Hey yourself," I grinned wider.

Eddie was such a good friend. I wished I could tell him the truth almost as much as I wanted Mary Lou to know it as well. He'd always been there for me, and I knew when he was worried about me. I could see it by the amount of donuts he'd sprung for. You'd have thought he was feeding his entire family.

"So, you're having heart palpitations over me this time?"

"Yeah. Steph, this has to be the hardest time of your life. This whole thing—"

"It totally sucks."

"It does. How've you been dealing with it?" By his tone, I knew he was fishing.

"What do you mean?"

"It's none of my business."

"Okay. Then what do you want to know about but are too polite to ask?"

"There are just the usual rumors, you know." He looked embarrassed.

"What rumors?"

"Well, that maybe you decided to go back to Manoso?"

"This is the Burg, Eddie. Be careful what you believe."

"You didn't?"

"Why does everyone think I would? Do you really think I'd go back to Ranger on the rebound, because Joe married that bimbo from hell!"

I got up and walked toward the kitchen to feed Rex a piece of my donut. They could've been sponges for all I cared. I wasn't hungry. My life, and all the secrets in it, just plain sucked.

"No, of course not. Look, Steph, I just want you to be happy. I know how much you love Joe. This really stinks, but you know what?"

"What?" I asked, sitting down next to him again.

"You shouldn't count Joe out. I mean I know he's going to prison and all, but I doubt that marriage of his is going to last. She doesn't strike me as the dearly devoted type. Once the funds run out, I bet she will too."

"So I should wait the ten to twenty years he's probably going to get? And if you're thinking he might get out early for good behavior, we're talking Joe here, so that's not likely. You want me to put my life on hold indefinitely, Eddie?"

"No—of course not! I just have a hard time seeing the two of you with anyone else but each other."

My eyes softened. "You're such a loon! I'm really blessed to have a friend like you."

"Yeah well," he blushed sheepishly. "I wanted to know how you were doing, but I also came to ask a favor of you."

"What favor. Oh God, please tell me it's not babysitting!"

I'd have to refuse, because the last thing I'd want would be to bring a stalker near Eddie's family. In truth, I wouldn't have minded spending some time with his kids.

_When the hell had that happened_?

I usually hated the idea of kids. Real kids without fur and tails were always so damned scary. Now a part of me longed to see a little one with black curly hair and dark brown eyes. I found myself wishing again that I'd gotten pregnant when Joe and I'd last made love. If I had, the poor kid would be four and half by now. That's how long ago we'd last made love—at least in my mind.

"It's not babysitting. It's more like blocking an escape exit."

"Blocking an escape for whom?"

Eddie rolled his eyes. "It's a long, sleazy story. Short version—Shirley has been nagging at me to help out a friend of hers. Seems the friend believes her husband is cheating. She wants to know for sure. She found an address in his jacket pocket. Shirley's been barely speaking to me, because I keep refusing to check it out. It's NOT a police matter; it's more for a private investigator. But the wife has NO money, and the thing that really complicates ALL of it is that she's six months pregnant with their fifth child."

"Oh wow—that's sad. So how do I fit into this?"

"You could guard the back exit. I was thinking if he saw me and figured he was caught, he'd try to make a getaway. Shirley and his wife want to know the truth. This woman needs to either get rid of the jackass or make him tow the line. He needs a good scare. I can't be in uniform of course, but he knows I'm a cop. I wouldn't get involved at all, but Shirley is beside herself. Five kids—how can I say no?"

"Then how can I?" I smiled at him. "I'll guard the back so he doesn't get away."

"You don't mind? I'd ask one of the guys from the precinct, but this is going into a grey area. Even me doing this favor is questionable, but I know you'd never tell anyone. And you sure as hell wouldn't tease a best friend for turning into Rambo on a cheating husband, right?"

"Right." I nodded.

We shared a bit of laughter, because he knew damned well I'd be bringing it up for eons to come. But I'd at least keep it private between us and oh, two or three hundred of our closest friends.

He excused himself to use the restroom, returning a short while later.

"So when?"

"Tomorrow night. He usually says he's going bowling with friends every Tuesday, so we think that's one of the times he's been sneaking out."

"Tomorrow then. You'll pick me up?"

"Yes, as soon as I change after I get off work."

"Okay then. Do you think I should bring my gun?"

"No. I don't want anyone to get hurt!"

"Pepper spray?"

"Uh, hopefully it won't come to that. How about your handcuffs."

"Just the handcuffs?"

"Okay pepper spray too. The guy deserves whatever he gets! I'll call you as soon as I get off and pick you up out front," he said, grabbing one last donut for the road.

I knew it wasn't skip tracing, but working with Eddie would be fun. I'd at least be safe leaving my apartment, and no one would need to worry about anything happening. All good. Now if I could just tune into Joe's messages again, I'd be as close to happy as I was going to get, until he came home.

I went into the bathroom to grab some lotion for my hands. Opening the cupboard, my eyes rested on a sticky note. I took it off the edge of the door, my eyes already filling with tears.

"_Hey there, Cupcake. I didn't want you to miss me too much. I can almost guess what you're wearing—one of my T-shirts and a hot pink thong. I love your bed hair—all those springy sexy curls in disarray. I get lightheaded just thinking about what fun we'd have playing who gets to undress who first. I miss you more. You're my reason for breathing. Know that when I come home, you'd better lay in a whole rainbow supply of those thongs. I promise though; you won't be wearing any of them for long. All my love—Joe_

I looked down at the TPD t-shirt I had on and smiled, because, while it wasn't a thong, my underwear was pink. I swiped at the last tear still falling down my cheek. _Was the man wonderful or what? _

How had it gotten there? Was I really so unaware that I hadn't even seen it. It dawned on me Eddie had asked to use the bathroom. I'd heard the toilet flush. Could he have left it? No. Because he didn't know anything about what was really happening with Joe.

Someone had to have put it there. But the list was so short of people who actually were in on the prison operation. Some of the Rangeman guys had to have known, but why would Joe—

I stopped trying to figure it out. What did it matter? It had made me feel so hopeful to see his handwriting. I felt like we'd reconnected.

God! He loved me so damned much to have made certain I continued to get those notes I'd always adored.

_Please bring him home soon_. I prayed silently. The only thing I needed were his arms around me—forever.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

No Profit. Not my characters.

Carol you help me MORE than you know. Thanks for being my Beta, sounding board, advisor, and teacher, and the list goes on, but most of all for being such a sweet friend.

Thanks to everyone who is reading and to those of you who are reviewing. I really appreciate the constant insight into your feelings and thoughts regarding this story.

Joe's POV

Be careful what you wish for! Upon being returned to my holding cell, after a short meeting with my lawyer, I'd found a manila envelope on the cell floor with my name imprinted on it. Opening it, I had a pretty good idea of what would be inside. Sure enough, there were two eight by tens of Stephanie with Ranger. Big Dog apparently hadn't gotten enough pleasure from just showing them to me once in miniscule size. He'd wanted me to have super-sized souvenirs too. What a nice, constantly cloying reminder of whom Steph had turned to the minute I was out of the picture.

The joke was on me all right.

Upon closer examination, I could see Ranger's face showed concern, while Steph's expression looked to be upset. Not everyone would have noticed that gazing casually at the photo, but I could see one of her fists clenched to the side. I'd learned and memorized every look and every expression she'd ever had, including her body language. My detective skills had nothing to do with it. My love for her had _everything_ to do with it.

I knew that woman inside and out.

Putting my intuition about her to work, I tried to decipher any hidden messages or implications in the photos. Her expression wasn't one of happiness. It actually looked more like fear or passion—or pain? I couldn't be sure. It had been taken from too far a distance to be certain.

The second photo was even harder to draw conclusions from, because with only the side profile to scrutinize, I could see her arms around his neck. He was holding her close into his chest. She seemed to be leaning her head on his shoulder as if she trusted him more than anyone else on the planet.

Shit!

I kept looking at them repeatedly. One time I'd have myself convinced it wasn't what it seemed, and then on my next inspection I'd be sure it was _exactly _what it seemed.

_Thanks Big Dog_.

Who else would have made sure to give me enlargements? When this was over, he'd pay! I'd make sure he was put on dogcatcher patrol or something equally degrading for a good long time to come.

I had to force myself to stop thinking. Not thinking in a place where contemplating your life was all that was intended made it next to impossible.

Hoping Kate or Eddie would come to see me, I figured I could get them to find out what the hell was going on? Even if Steph were back with Ranger, it wouldn't change my resolve to protect her. I'd have to do that even if we never so much as saw one another again. Her being happy and safe was the only thing that mattered to me.

I wondered if she'd gotten the donuts and birthday cake? The first batch was supposed to have been delivered together. I hoped she at least enjoyed it. What if she'd decided to throw them into the garbage? I guess I'd never know for sure, so it really didn't matter. I felt a little foolish for having ordered all that stuff. I bet she and Manoso were having a great laugh at my expense. Sadly, she'd have to eat the cake all alone, because he wasn't into anything unhealthy—except relationships. Apparently he had no qualms about his wellbeing—or someone else's—when it had to do with matters of the heart.

Surprisingly, I felt sorry for Kate, because if Manoso and Stephanie were together, Kate would have her heart broken all over again too. Not that it had ever had a chance to mend in the last four years. The damn bastard! If he ended up breaking Steph's heart too, I'd find him when I got out. I'd make him pay until his batty brain was dizzy with my revenge.

This wasn't the way I wanted my thoughts to go. But I was in continuous, fluctuating confusion over what I knew in my heart had to be true, while at the same time holding the concrete evidence in my hands that totally contradicted the truth. I remembered what happened last time I'd let myself doubt Stephanie's feelings. I'd nearly cheated on her with Kate. Okay, that helped put things into perspective. It hadn't been true then; it might not be true now either. I needed to focus on something else. _Damn it! What?_

Michaels interrupted my thoughts as he came striding purposely toward my cell, waiting until I gave him my full attention. I shoved the envelope under the blanket quickly. I didn't even want to know what he had cooking. I'd just about had it with everyone in my professional life—including him.

"Spit it out. I can tell from your face it's not good news."

"How's it going, Joe?"

"Ask me some other day."

"That bad?"

"Yeah."

"Are you in pain?"

"It doesn't matter. What's on your mind?"

"Well, I have some good news and some bad news." Clearly, this was his latest batch of phony-baloney diplomacy.

"Give me the bad first."

He bit his lip, folding his arms across his broad chest. I figured he must have been feeling guilty for going along with Brooks orders at Pino's, which had resulted in me getting beaten and shot. He _should_ feel bad he hadn't stood up and taken my side until after the fact. I'd given him many years of loyal, dedicated service. He owed me.

"Well Morelli, we decided it's too soon for you to enter that prison."

"Why the hell not? I'm healing fine."

"You have to be in optimum shape, and there is no way we will place you there until your mental state and physical condition are both unquestionable."

"What the shit does that mean? I'm fine mentally. I am more than ready to kick some ass!" My eyes let him know his ass was among the ones I was ready to kick.

He gave me a warning look. "We all agree you need a few more days. We're going to release some information however that you've been placed in solitary confinement at the prison because you got a little too belligerent with the guards when they were transferring you."

"Why? If I'm here, no one will believe it?"

"Well the _good _news is that you won't be here. We're transferring you, late tonight."

Kate's POV

The steamy water swooshed over my bare skin.

I'd had little else on my mind since I'd left Carlos sprawled and stunned on his couch. I couldn't stop remembering how his hot searing breath had felt as his lips claimed mine over and over again. I'd given in so easily the moment I'd felt his hard, warm body so temptingly close to mine. I'd felt starved for his love. After the years of deprivation, I'd struggled with his sudden embrace only briefly, and then I'd given in, because his love was what I'd wanted more than anything. As our passion ignited, I'd known that surrendering completely to our desires would've come at much too high a price.

The mere thought of his touch was too painful. I tried scrubbing it off my body as fervently as I tried to banish the image of him from my brain—failing miserably.

I'd dreaded facing Carlos. In my heart, he would always be Carlos. Feeling his lips pressed into mine, the hot fusion of his tongue entering my mouth and his hands grazing sensuously over my body had brought back a myriad of emotions. Feelings I hadn't even wanted to know I still had were soaring to the surface.

Damn!

Burying my feelings had been so easy when there were hundreds of miles between us! But since I'd been back in his presence, I'd become so miserably transparent! It seemed like my crazy sentimental outbursts were spewing sporadically to new heights—daily.

I'd tried to bring back the professionalism to our association. Maintaining a poker face around him was essential if I was to continue with the business at hand. How could I stare into his eyes and speak of operations and strategies when all I could think of were _his_ penetrating ebony eyes, his hard, muscular and sinuous body, those lips of his turning up quizzically at the corners and his hands reaching out for me with passionate purpose.

Shit!

My mind had a will of its own. My thoughts drifted to a trip we'd taken together shortly before the end of our relationship. He'd whisked me off to the surprise destination—our own private island. We'd had a charming, hidden away bungalow accompanied by a beautiful stretch of pristine white beach—reserved just for us. It was the most romantic place I'd ever been. It had felt as though we were the only two people left on earth.

There'd been a sensuous four poster bed suspended as a swing on the beach with luxurious pillows where you could lay sheltered from the sun, while gloriously wrapped in one another's arms. At night, lit candles had magically appeared surrounding the outdoor bed. The tranquil sea had made it feel so infinitely freeing. While gentle whispery breezes caressed our skin, we'd made deep, passionate love at all hours of the day and night.

Our spacious and private indoor retreat had been breath-taking as well with its own Jacuzzi tub and all the modern conveniences of a five-star hotel. Food had been delivered to us as if by magic—our empty plates whisked away just as mysteriously. We'd never seen another soul the entire time we were there.

Fresh, exotic and delicious feasts had filled us and energized us to take long walks. Occasionally, we'd detoured to dip our bodies into the ocean whenever we'd felt the urge. We'd given ourselves so completely to one another that I'd never distinguished where he and I began or ended. We were as one.

We'd laughed and shared more there than anywhere. Though he'd refused to ever talk about his time in the army, under special ops, he'd loosened up about his childhood and his crazy family. I'd entertained him with many stories of my wild, Irish clan. We'd opened up to one another, and I could feel the trust between us growing stronger every day.

I'd been madly in love. How could I have had a one-sided connection when everything we'd done those five days had been totally shared? Being so secretly secluded had welded us together to an even greater intensity.

Our last night there I'd lied next to him, blissfully spent and feeling as though my heart was filled to the brim and running over with love. He'd been sound asleep and totally unaware of my words. I'd whispered them to him, because never saying them at all had felt so fucking wrong.

"_Carlos, I'm in love with you. You've given me more than I ever dreamed of, and I want to give that to you. I want you forever. Please soften your heart and let me in."_

Tears had fallen unchecked, as I'd told him how much I'd needed him. I'd wanted more than stolen moments and frenzied weekends. I'd held my hand over my stomach, envisioning us with babies. Knowing both of our lives would be changed by the healing love we'd given each other, I'd never wanted those days on that island to end. But they had, and we'd only had two more encounters after that. If I'd known what was coming, I wouldn't have ever let him go. I'd have done anything to be with him. Moving across the continent or changing my life to fit his had been a no brainer. I'd have quit everything, _but_ him.

I shook the not so distant memories away, as I brought myself forcefully back to the present.

Joe's POV

It wasn't a bad place as far as safe houses went, and I'd seen my share of them. This one was one of the most modern to be sure. The FBI had a bigger budget for these things than the TPD.

It was a one-bedroom, industrial loft apartment—nice for a bachelor pad if you were into that. High ceilings and a huge, open floor plan. The kitchen area was granite outfitted with state of the art stainless steel accessories and appliances. The sofa was something out of a futuristic, Sci-fi movie. Not my thing, because I liked to be able to lie down to take a nap or watch a game. The king-sized bedroom was partitioned off from the living room by sliding, frosted, paneled doors and furnished in sleek black.

Tile and mirrors made up the bathroom, which had a huge, walk-in, glass encased shower and a full-sized Jacuzzi tub.

I wondered how many crime lords had been treated to the top of the line spa while they waited to enter a witness protection program or to testify for a trial if they'd cut a deal with the police.

The place lacked nothing. The fridge was fully stocked, as were all the cupboards. There was even a patio/terrace accessible through sliding glass doors complete with a barbeque and outdoor furniture.

Home sweet home.

No one knew for sure how long I'd be there. I rolled my eyes, which reminded me of Stephanie. All thoughts of her resulted in a sharp, penetrating pain aimed directly at my gut.

The place wasn't me anymore than that big, echoing excuse for a house I'd had to pretend to live in had been me. After having a sandwich, I realized the first full day there had totally dragged by. If I'd thought I was having trouble keeping my thoughts under control in the cracker box holding cell, it was even more fun here where I could do nothing but pace and talk to myself by the hour.

Shit!

It was eight forty-five in the evening. Looking at the clock, I blew out the disappointment I was fighting. I had to be ready to face reality—whatever it was.

I really wanted to get this shitty assignment over with! What the hell had Michaels meant by my mental health needing to be in tiptop condition? What the hell did any of them know! I was a freaking perfect specimen of mental health! Making a fist sub-consciously, I looked down and frowned before relaxing it.

Okay, maybe I did need a little self-evaluation time.

Instead of counting the minutes until nine o'clock, I tried to ignore them, hoping they'd pass quickly. I hadn't bothered to send any ESP messages to Stephanie since I'd seen those damn photographs.

That old saying—a picture is worth a thousand words—or in this case two thousand was too true. Unfortunately, I hadn't needed a thousand words to tell me what they'd meant. She'd gone to him. He'd picked her up into his arms and obviously carried her inside. That much I knew. It'd looked pretty physical from those photos—his hand on her cheek and her arms wrapped around his neck.

But there had to be an explanation! I needed an explanation more than anything! Nothing I'd seen with my eyes had seemed real. It simply didn't make sense, because she loved me!

Damn it!

Eight-fifty. Screw it! Just get the fuck past nine! Why were the shittin' minutes crawling by when I needed them to go fast?

If those pictures were what they seemed to be, I was _done_. No matter how much we might still love one another, and I believed we did, I _wouldn't_ share her with anyone—not ever again.

Maybe I should've put my foot down about that damned diamond watch. What if her accepting it had re-started their relationship? Manoso wouldn't hesitate to take the opportunity if Steph had given him even the slightest ray of hope. I wouldn't have either if the situation were reversed.

It was strange. I should be jumping up and down and having a Royal Italian temper tantrum. Intense emotional pain threatened to overtake me, but, more than that, I felt the aching desperation to get some answers. The possibility I'd have no conclusions for months weighed heavily. How was I supposed to let it go in the meantime?

I could ask Kate or Eddie to find out, but I needed to hear it from her. I needed to look into her to-die-for, blue topaz eyes and hear it from her. The whole world could show me pictures and tell me she was with him, but it wouldn't feel true until I got it straight from her.

We needed Kate to get us a couple of those throw away phones again, so I could get some answers. Truthfully, a part of me was deathly afraid of the answers. What would happen if she said all my worries were well founded? How would I just walk away and never see her again?

Eight fifty-nine.

_Cupcake, I miss you. I'm not sure what's going on? Are you okay? Did something change? Did I do something? Did someone tell you something that upset you about me? Why is our connection gone? I could feel you so easily those first two days? Damn it, Steph! Say something! Even if it's that you don't_ _want to talk to me anymore! Why the hell wouldn't you want to? Has Eddie delivered a note to you yet? Are you too sad to talk? Do you wish I hadn't sent it? What in the hell is going on? I love you Stephanie, I always have and always will. _

Steph's POV

Nine o'clock.

_Joe, I'm not sure what the hell is wrong, but I'm worried sick about you. Are you in too much pain to send me thoughts? Why has it been so quiet after those first two nights? I'm lost without you. I hate this! Shit! Why would you stop talking to me when I need you so fucking much? You'd better have a damned good reason, Morelli! I miss you. Please, Joe—just tell me you love me. I love you. I always will. _

I didn't know how I was going to get to sleep after the endless silence. At least tomorrow I would have a little distraction helping Eddie with his neighbor's domestic problem. I hoped I'd be back by nine. I couldn't handle missing another Morelli message. Maybe Mercury was in retrograde and the planets were not aligned enough to get ESP messages. Or maybe some kind of wiring was off. Or, God forbid, Joe was running a fever and too sick to even think of getting me a message. But wouldn't I know if he was sick? I'd know if he was dead. If he didn't have a friggin' good reason for not sending me a message every night, he would be dead to me. Okay, maybe not dead, but in a lot of freaking trouble!

Finding myself at loose ends after the nine o'clock nightly disappointments, I'd taken to going to bed way earlier. I didn't want the loud confusion of TV noise blaring away. Soft music only brought depression and insatiable desire for Joe. It was easier just to go to sleep and try to escape from all the sadness I felt most of the time.

Drifting off to sleep uneasily, and then waking every hour made it a fitful, exhausting night. Something kept telling me that Joe was in some kind of trouble. The empty feeling in my stomach wouldn't go away. And moreover, there was a zinging pain in my heart that felt so unsettled and unhappy.

Why?

Oh God! If only we could speak to one another. I thought of Kate smugly offering to get Joe a message. Maybe I should have taken her up on the offer. Maybe he needed to hear something from me. It couldn't be easy being in that jail cell, on display for all his longtime friends and co-workers to walk by gawking at him in that cage all hours of the day or night—giving him mean, degrading looks and, more than likely, ready to harass him at the slightest provocation.

Getting out of bed, I walked over to my jewelry box. I took out the note I'd found. He loved me. That note had told me everything I needed to know.

Closing my eyes, I could imagine him right there beside me. I could feel the air electric with his presence. His arms would slide through mine and pull my back gently against his chest. His lips would instantly head for the hollow of my neck, nipping and cajoling me into a soft, whimpering puddle of mush.

His hands would wrestle the note away, placing it back inside the box. He'd extend a hand to me and guide me back to the bed where we we'd be enraptured for blissful minutes and then wrapped in each other's arms as sleep claimed our exhausted, depleted bodies. And when morning arrived, we'd find more ways to express our deep, word defying feelings.

But my bed was empty. There were no loving arms present to take the anxiety away. I had to be content with the loving thoughtfulness of his playful, intimate note to me. How long would this piece of paper take the place of Joe's warmth—his charisma—his humor—his endlessly seducing sexiness?

God!

Cold showers were going to be my new obsession. How in the hell was I supposed to get through months of missing the best part of myself? We were one in my heart. I don't know when or how it'd happened—but it had. We didn't have to wear rings to feel it. We didn't have to sign a stupid piece of paper to know it. Not that I didn't want that. I wanted every possible means of making Morelli and me permanently and legally connected.

Forcing myself to go to bed, I closed my eyes to drift off to a deep, sad and dreamless sleep.

Ranger's POV

Kate had called earlier. I'd been surprised when she asked to come and talk with me. Thinking it was going to be about us, I'd hesitated to say yes. She'd speedily assured me it wasn't a personal visit. What the hell had that meant? Why hadn't I been relieved it wasn't personal? Why had I found it fucking irritating it wasn't about us?

_Why the hell did I even care?_

She arrived, looking too sexy for words. Wearing black jeans and a simple black t-shirt, her cropped, green jacket accentuated her svelte, model worthy body.

I offered her a glass of red wine, which she accepted.

"What's on your mind, Meghan?"

She gave me a penetrating look. "Stephanie and Joe. I want them to have some quality time together before he goes forward with this operation."

"You know that isn't the wisest thing to do. They've already said their good-byes, and we have no idea if it'd even be more than a day or two."

Even as I was denying the merit of the plan, I was re-living Stephanie's pleading eyes having asked me to make it happen followed by her disillusionment when I'd said no.

"When has being wise ever been our strong suit?" Meghan asked me, clearly determined to make this idea a reality.

"What is the plan? I assume by that spark in your eyes you already have one?"

"I do. Eddie Gazarra is on board, and he's already set things in motion."

"Gazarra? I thought you didn't trust him?"

"You do," she responded simply. "I believe you'd know if he wasn't who he seemed to be."

"Okay—go on." _Why did it make me happy to hear she trusted my feelings and opinions?_

"I want them to be knocked off their socks when they come together. I don't want either of them to know a thing! It's really important that this be one of the biggest, most surprising moments of their lives. God only knows if they are going to have more." She looked away from me as though it was painful to her to imagine they wouldn't.

My lips curled up, in spite of myself. This was more like the woman I'd known years ago. She'd been an unabashed, hopeless romantic back then, one I'd been madly attracted to despite having no fantasy of ever ending up with her permanently.

We were never meant to be permanent.

She'd hidden that softer side from me so well at first. It'd taken a few months before I'd caught her with a box of tissues crying over the sad parting of some star-crossed couple on the TV screen. I'd felt guilty then, knowing I'd probably end up being a big disappointment to her, but at the same time I hadn't been able to tear myself away from her side.

I'd wanted to be with her pure and simple—for however long it lasted. I hadn't been able to bring myself to make the sacrifice to step away unselfishly.

"So why now? You said you'd never apologize to them," I asked her, extremely curious.

"They'd never believe the words, but this action would prove my regret for having ever tried to come between them. Come on, Ranger—you know this is the right thing to do. You and I both have guilt where they're concerned. We need to do whatever we can to fix the mess we've made of things between them."

I contemplated her words while taking in her beautifully sincere eyes. How could I ever say no to her?

"Okay, I'm on board. Fill me in."

We spent another twenty minutes talking, and when it was time for her to leave, I didn't want her to go. I wanted to resume the kiss we'd shared merely days ago.

_Wait—I did?_ Since when?

I must need some R and R, because I was catching thoughts left and right that had NO place in my head. Yet my head was deciding one thing while my mouth had other ideas.

"Don't you want to talk about what happened the other day?" I asked her tentatively. Whoa—was this me wanting to talk about something personal?

_Was I losing my mind?_

"There's nothing to say." She wasn't budging.

"You were pretty upset."

"Yes, well you were right. This is business plain and simple. Whatever was between us is over."

What the hell was with her? That's what I said all along! Now she's telling me it's business? What had been the big tirade about last time then? She'd bared her soul to me, telling me she was in love with me! How could that have changed so fast back?

And why in the hell was I thinking about this so damned much?

Furthermore, why was I questioning my entire attraction to Stephanie as possibly having been on the rebound from Meg all along? If that wasn't the case and my feelings for Stephanie were genuine, then was I transferring my feelings for Stephanie back to Meg?

I'd never felt so unsure about anything in my life. This wasn't me. I was strong, focused and driven. This shit had to stop. I was determined to get those two women the hell out of my mind for good—especially the one standing there in front of me, who was without a doubt the most aggravating woman in the universe!

"Okay, fine. Uh— I could walk you out." _Why in the hell was I offering to spend more time with her? _

"I'm fine, Ranger."

"You don't have to call me that."

"It's what you go by. It's your street name—your business. Why not call you that?"

"But you always used Carlos. That's what I'm used to with you." _What the hell did it matter what she called me?_

"That was in the past. I'm following the rules you set. We never happened. Your business name is Ranger. We're all about business—remember?"

"What are you trying to do?" I asked suspiciously. Why the hell did she always throw me off center?

"I'm trying very hard to give you what you really want. Good-bye, Carlos." She planted a kiss tenderly on my cheek.

Hearing her call me by the name she'd always used only to use it as her last good-bye lit a fire inside me. Where the hell it had come from I didn't know.

As her lips were about to leave my cheek, I turned my head, seeking to cover them with mine. My arms wrapped around her involuntarily, and I felt her body weakening as I intensified our kiss.

Suddenly I felt the jolting, cold emptiness again, as she ducked out of my arms.

"I can't! Don't touch me—not ever again. You'll never be able to give me what I need. You're too emotionally crippled! I'm not ready to deal with any kind of relationship. And if I ever am, I don't want something that isn't going to last! I don't want anything from you, but to see this job and this plan for Stephanie and Joe through. Once that's done, we are too—forever," she vowed vehemently.

"I—don't—forever's a long time," I said stupidly.

"I have to go."

I closed my eyes, knowing she would be long gone when I reopened them.

Hours later I was unable to achieve my goal of getting some sleep.

I'd made the fatal mistake of kissing Meghan—again. My mind was distracted, and my stomach felt as though it'd been put through a meat chopper.

What the hell was happening to me? Her words, accusations, insights, and obviously deep, festering pain haunted me constantly. I'd told Hal to arrange a Cobre meeting instead of a covert meeting. He'd asked me when had I decided take on a copper mine?

Normally he knew just enough Spanish to be dangerous. How the hell he'd picked up on _that _word was beyond me. I'd barked at him, pretending to be incensed, claiming he'd heard me wrong. I'd told him I'd said covert and challenged him with my most intimidating look to dare to contradict me. He'd glared at me as if I'd lost a marble or two, more than usual, then had given up by simply shrugging his shoulders.

I missed Tank. He knew how to keep me in line and focused on the target in front of me. I'd visited them, and they were doing remarkably well. It's not like they hadn't navigated a jail cell before, but they'd been in good spirits. Their over-sized presence had acted as a deterrent to anyone itching to give them a bad time. I was relieved; because that meant Morelli would be included in their protective bubble once they made it known they were in charge of his daily torment.

I really needed them back. We were family, and it didn't feel right with them missing. Maybe that was part of what was making me lose my perspective. I was off kilter somehow. I never made mistakes when speaking of business! If it wasn't the loss of my men that had me feeling off, it had to be something totally incomprehensible.

I was going to stop this ridiculous lovesick behavior and concentrate on my work. Meg had been right. What we had was in the past, and that's where it would stay.

Steph's POV

I stumbled out of bed. It was eight-fifty in the morning. I'd slept in, because what else did an entirely housebound person with a spotless apartment do? The sound of my front door being rapped upon several times had gotten me up. I had a knee jerk, nervous reaction. What if my stalker liked to make breakfast time house calls?

Breathing out a long sigh of relief, I peeked through the door and found a familiar bakery deliveryman waiting for me to answer. He' worked for the Tasty Pastry for years. The top of his balding head showed in the peephole, along with the fact he was holding two nice-sized bakery boxes.

I opened the door, having no idea what he could possibly be bringing me and feeling pretty certain he had the wrong address.

"Hello, Stephanie," he greeted jovially. His diminutive height, combined with his rotund body always reminded me of someone from my childhood. He had a bird beak nose and wore a toothy grin. Black button eyes shined whimsically. He was adorned from head to toe in bakery white. It was like getting an up close and personal visit from "Frosty the Snowman."

"Hi Fr—Henry." I looked from him to the boxes. Then back to him again.

"These are for you, Ms. Plum."

"Uh—I don't think so. I haven't ordered anything."

"Oh _yes,_ they are. I don't make mistakes." He juggled the boxes from both hands into one, while carefully pulling out the receipt. "Yes. See— right here. Stephanie Plum."

I read the bakery order. It _was _for me. I couldn't imagine who would have sent me baked goods? Was it that crazy stalker of mine? At least having been delivered by the bakery, they probably weren't poisoned.

"Poor kid! You must be having quite a birthday party with all this stuff. Parents sure pick some weird names for their children now days!" He shook his round head doubtfully. "I can't imagine what they'd do to this name at school! I bet this kid gets teased a bunch!"

I looked at him, scrunching my face in confusion.

"Who paid for them? I don't see any name."

"I couldn't tell you, Miss. We didn't get a name. It was all arranged for anonymously."

Fishing quickly through the money jar I kept on my entertainment center, I pulled out a couple of one-dollar bills.

"Here thanks!"

He gave a little giggle and stuck them into his apron pocket before nearly hopping down the hall to the elevator. I half expected him to start melting.

I couldn't wait to see what was in those boxes!

Opening the one that looked to be a donut box first, I knew instantly as I counted them who'd sent them to me.

Joe.

How had he done this? It was a perfect baker's dozen. He'd always gotten the one extra donut to make certain I was totally satisfied. He was very good at that—in every way. More than satisfying, he was the sweetest, most thoughtful guy in the universe. Okay, so he never picked up his socks or most of his clothing for that matter. He also had that annoying habit of grinding his teeth in his sleep after a particularly hard day at work. Other than that, he was perfect.

I opened the box that looked like it held cake. Sure enough there was the most beautiful confection inside. Frosted in white, it had pink roses and green leaves on it. A little red heart off to the side of one of the flowers had a picture of a tiny cupcake inside it. And if that weren't enough of a hint, the lucky recipient of the cake was found in the salutation.

"Happy Birthday Illerom."

A big smile accompanied those over-producing tear ducts of mine.

"Happy Birthday Morelli!" Ah—he'd found a perfect way to let me know who'd sent them in case there was any doubt.

_God I loved him_!

And there was no doubt he loved me. He'd gone to so much trouble to come up with that masterfully thought out plan that would provide me with all the things I loved most in the world. _He _was what I loved most in the world! Having done all this to make sure he could stay in touch with me made me even more certain he was the ONLY man I'd ever want or need.

Deciding to save the cake for when he came home, I carefully wrapped it first in saran then in foil, placing it lovingly in my freezer. We'd be celebrating big time when that day finally came. I wouldn't eat one bite without him there to enjoy it with me. The donuts, however, were another matter all together. I took a big bite of a Boston Cream.

"Mmmmm, Morelli, you are going to be on the receiving end of my gratitude for a very long time to come once you get back here."

Ranger's POV

We were about to convene a meeting to discuss the press leak. Meghan hadn't arrived yet. Bracing myself for the moment of impact, I knew my heart was anxiously awaiting her arrival, while my head was fighting off the implications of that fact.

Of course she chose that exact moment to arrive wearing a green dress that clung in all the right places. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate on this damned meeting when she dressed like that? Every place on her body was right! How in the hell had I gone cold turkey without her? I'd missed her of course, but my usual Litany of 'for the greater good' had brainwashed me into believing cutting the relationship off had been the best thing to do.

Now I wasn't sure at all.

When thoughts of possibly loving her had kept popping into my head, I'd known it was high time to get the hell away from her. And I'd done just that, pretending I no longer needed or wanted her. I'd gone about my business like a robot without feeling or emotion. Now both were coming back to bite me on the ass!

Now I realized how addicted I'd been to her. I'd stopped it like pulling the plug on bathwater. Before I'd known it, all my feelings had slid down the drain as well. Apparently instead of evaporating completely, however, they'd festered in some kind of holding tank, waiting for me to acknowledge they'd never been entirely disposed of at all.

I heard Michaels clear his throat and realized I'd been lost in thought, my eyes fixated on Meg.

The damned meeting!

Shit!

I forced myself back to the job at hand.

"Meghan, what do you have for us on the press leak?"

"First I have to tell you Morelli may be healing fast, but we can't put him into the prison for a good while yet."

"Why the hell not?" I asked, wanting this to be over with as much as Morelli did, so Meg could go home and I could get back to my true calling, which had NOTHING to do with a wife or children.

_Where had that come from?_

"Because about two hours ago, our FBI man, who was posing as a guard at the prison, was stabbed. He's in intensive care. We need to place someone else in there, before Joe goes into the general population."

"Why? You have my three men?" I pointed out, ready to growl. At this rate I'd be lucky to be fully staffed again before 2020.

"Because it's our operation, and the men upstairs have dictated that course of action," she explained, avoiding direct eye contact with me.

"Morelli is going to go nuts waiting any longer. I don't want to be the one to break the news to Joe," Michaels jumped into the conversation. "I already had to give him some news he wasn't happy about."

"You're the logical one," I informed him.

"Fine," Michaels groused. "Where's Commissioner Brooks when you need him? He loves being the bearer of bad news."

"He called and said he had a political commitment," I explained briefly.

"Sure—good excuse. He's getting on my last nerve!" Michaels confessed to no one in particular.

"The leaks?" I asked, forcing myself to look directly into Meg's eyes.

"Male voice disguised with a synthesizer is the best guess. The tip came into a CNN station in New York. They received the call a day before Morelli's arrest went down. They record all their tips. I heard it. It's so indefinable it could even have been a woman's voice. I passed it to our techs to see what can be done to unscramble it. They still have it."

"After they're through, I'll give it to an expert at Rangeman," I informed her impassively.

"I don't think you'll get much better than FBI techs!" she retorted.

"We'll see." I saw her barely held response being stifled.

_NO tension between us at all._

"Someone knew before the court order came down. That eliminates the courthouse leak. It had to be someone at the precinct overhearing us or bugging the offices," she changed the topic effectively.

"So what's our next step? Are you keeping the press under control?"

Meghan smiled. "Thank God for Hollywood gossips! They're pretty busy right now. They flew by the droves to California. I think they found that a certain Academy Award winning actor might've been having an affair with his housekeeper. Interestingly enough, the housekeeper might've also been having an affair with his wife at the same time."

"That should keep them out of our hair for a bit." Griffin smiled—the first one I'd seen on him since meeting him months ago.

"Yeah, let's hope so," Michaels concurred.

"There is the matter of the stalker that was after Stephanie Plum the other night," I said, folding my hands in front of me.

"We scoured the area looking for clues and have the body shops on alert for anything matching the description of the sports car being brought in for repair work. Nothing has materialized so far," Meg interjected. "Also the trace on her cell phone came up empty. He used the now famous—"

"Undetectable cell phone," I finished. "Has anyone told Morelli about her stalker yet?" I asked curiously.

"No. Until we have more, we thought it best not to worry him, needlessly," Griffin informed everyone.

"How in the hell do you keep that woman out of trouble? Morelli's been trying to do it for years, with little success?" Michaels groaned.

I answered his question. "She's sitting tight now. I'm hoping the stalker will give up when he sees she isn't budging. Her apartment is secured with one of Rangeman's best systems. She should be safe as long as the FBI keeps their eyes where they should be."

I gave Griffin a look. Griffin gave Kate a funny, clandestine expression that was undecipherable but had me curious.

"That's not a problem. Two men are assigned to her now. If one takes a break the other will be there no matter what, or I promise you someone will get terminated."

"Okay then—that's everything for now. Meeting adjourned."

Meghan got up, and I couldn't stop myself. As the other attendees departed, I made my way to her side.

"Excuse me," she said, about to take her leave as well. She tried to dodge me walking first to one side then the other. She kept it up until she realized I wasn't budging.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, her feathers obviously ruffled.

"No reason—you just seemed like—"

"What I am is NONE of your concern, Ranger."

"Meg, I thought you wanted my recognition of you during work. You have it."

"Why now?" She looked up at me, her eyes clearly frustrated.

"We're colleagues," I mumbled a half-assed reason.

She laughed. "Like that mattered the last two times we worked together."

"Can you give me a break?"

"No."

"Are you ever going to forgive me?" I asked, aggravated.

"Have you even figured out what you did wrong?" she asked skeptically.

"Well I suppose if I am asking for you to forgive me I must have!" I snapped.

"You've never asked me to forgive, you. In fact you've never even said you're sorry!" Her eyes were shooting darts at me. So much so, I should have been full of holes.

"I told you what happened between us is OVER. We're done. It's business and nothing else!"

She turned around, and, without another word, walked out on me _again._ What the hell was wrong with that woman! Couldn't she ever stay and finish a fucking conversation?

Damn her! I should have joined a monastery—years ago! Women! Who needed them!

Steph's POV

Eddie called, as I was about to shower, to tell me he was held up. He said he'd rushed to the emergency room to be with Shirley. One of their kids had taken a spill during a basketball game, and they were waiting on the results of his x-rays.

He asked me to meet him at the address, which I wrote down as he rattled it off. Although he'd advised me to take a cab or call my father, I didn't want to do either. Getting into a cab in front of my apartment could bring the stalker chasing after an innocent driver or, God forbid, my own father!

How could I refuse him? How could I get out of my apartment undetected by the stalker? Damn, I wished he could've picked me up, but his son had to come first. He said he'd be about a half hour late.

I wanted to keep my promise to Ranger, while honoring my word to Eddie, _and_ being a reliable best friend. But safety was not going to be compromised this time.

Think Stephanie!

I looked out the window of my living room. One FBI sedan was down there, but no European sports car. I saw Mrs. Gonzalas walking toward a car full of elderly friends, and an idea began to take shape.

Making a call to Ranger, I explained my promise to help Eddie. I told him of my escape plan—even going so far as to tell him the mode of transportation I intended to use. He wasn't able to successfully contain his laughter, which I found annoying. Then he told me exactly what he thought of my intentions. Yet strangely, he seemed okay with the whole thing.

He promised to take care of the FBI and to instruct them to wait for my return. It was almost too easy? Ranger had never been so casual about anything to do with my security before. He even said I was being quite inventive, and it sounded like a great idea. Go figure!

I heard the elevator coming up to my floor and made a beeline to catch it before it took off again.

Thank goodness! Mrs. Bestler was on duty.

"Hi, Mrs. Bestler."

"Well, hello dear. What floor would you like today?"

"Three."

"Oh Women's Wear—good choice. They're having a special on blouses today." Her gray eyes lit up as if she was offering me a free trip to Italy.

I got on the elevator, and she pressed three.

"We have Men's wear, Ladies undergarments and luggage on two!" she informed me happily.

"Mrs. Bestler, I really need _your _help." My eyes entreated her, as I gave her my most affectionate smile.

"Of course, dear. We have makeup and—"

"No, Mrs. Bestler—I need _you._ You have exactly what I need in your apartment!" I grinned, hoping to bring her back to the real world.

"I do? Well, if you say I do, then I must."

"You do! Remember when I helped you clean your closet. You had me put some of the things you don't use much on that really high shelf?"

"Oh YES! You're that nice girl that climbed up the stepladder! Stephanie—right?"

"Right—I really need to borrow a few things. I'll get them back to you."

"Oh, you don't have money to buy things on Three? Of course you can borrow some stuff. I have a lovely dress that would make your skin just glow!"

"Great! That's exactly what I need. And I know you have some lovely wigs and some shoes and maybe some of those hose with the seams you love wearing." My eyes showered her with my appreciation.

"My goodness! You must have a hot date with a sexy man! Which one is it—the one with the dark curly hair and those gorgeous brown eyes, or the other one that looks like an army gorilla?"

"No hot date. I need to get out of this building without being followed. There's another bad guy after me," I confided. My life or I no longer shocked my fellow tenants. They'd had lots of experience witnessing it all over the years.

"Oh No! How annoying that they gravitate toward you like flies to a dead carcass. Well let's get you a disguise then. This is almost more fun than being on my shift in the elevator!" she exclaimed, pulling me into her apartment. "I hope they don't dock my pay. I hardly ever take a break."

I nodded. That was true.

"Oh dear. You wanted a wig. I'm afraid our shipment this week only came in one color. It doesn't match your hair at all." She wrung her hands in disappointment.

"No worries. Gray is perfect!" I bit my lip, trying not to laugh.

She had so many wigs to pick from. It didn't take long for me to settle on one with a built in granny bun.

Pulling out two dresses from the closet, she said, "This is our newest style sent directly from Milan. I think it would do wonders for that cute figure of yours. You know if I sell you a great deal of merchandise, I might even get promoted to the first floor. It would be so lovely to get out of that elevator once in awhile." She'd gone back into her world of department store mania.

I gave her a big hug. "You deserve that promotion more than anyone I know," I told her sincerely.

I chose a voluminous red, polka dotted dress that fell way below my knees. She gave me a pair of flesh-colored, old-fashioned, seamed hose and a garter belt to wear with them. Even a pair of her shoes fit me—not that I wanted to wear them. They practically screamed, 'Grandma'.

"Dear, how are you going to make your getaway? Wouldn't that nasty man after you spot your big blue car? No offense but that thing is like a growling bear. You couldn't miss it in a circus." She was obviously coming back to reality for a moment.

"No, I can't take that car. I have another solution, but I'll need a short ride."

"Well I have a marvelous idea!" Mrs. Bestler's eyes were gleaming with excitement. "You leave everything to me. We'll take good care of you. You'll be completely satisfied, or we'll guarantee your money back."

"I didn't pay—"

"You just go get changed dear, and meet me at the elevator in an hour," she instructed me. "My break is over, and if I don't get back soon, the boss may write me up!"

She kindly shoved me out the apartment door. We got on the elevator, arms burgeoning with the borrowed items. She reverted back to info lady, as we went down one floor, asking me if I needed any camping gear.

Surveying myself in the mirror, I wasn't as shocked as I thought I'd be. Getting a little glimpse of my future—minus most of the wrinkles—was pretty funny. The red, polka dotted, long-sleeved dress was big enough to conceal what I wore underneath it. I took a second look at the hosiery with the thick seams. Not as ugly as I thought they'd be. I wondered if Morelli would be turned on if he saw me this way. Of course he would—he'd be turned on if all I had on were a sack over my head and fish flappers on my feet! That was one of the things I loved about him most. He loved every inch of me—unconditionally.

I needed a moment to breathe out the excitement I was feeling for no apparent reason. I guess being all cooped up for days was getting to me more than I'd realized. I hoped Eddie and I could accomplish what needed to happen with the deadbeat dad and husband, smiling as I thought of what a wonderful husband and father my Joe would make.

Setting the security system, I joined a group of tenants at the elevator. Mrs Bestler was there too with her coat on.

"Okay folks this is the plan," she whispered, as though they were being eavesdropped on by some sinister interloper.

Mr Kolakowski had to ask her to speak up, as he had his hearing aide on its highest setting. Suddenly it gave off a horrendous, high-pitched squeal. Mr Warnick snapped at him to turn the damned thing off. I had a posse of four protectors. The plan was surprisingly good, and I wondered if Mrs. Bestler wasn't way more cunning and sharp than I'd ever imagined.

We got on the elevator, and every one of those elderly friends of mine pulled out a progressively bigger gun. They had them aimed at the ceiling, but ready to retrain them on the enemy instantly should the need arise.

"What's with the guns?" I asked, eyes wide and not entirely without abject terror. I mean four senior citizens holding guns with shaky hands were NOT good.

"Uh— can you guys lose the guns? I think that might call attention to us, and we really don't want that. I'm supposed to blend in—remember?"

They put the guns away, and before I could say thanks, four shiny knives in various shapes and sizes appeared. Senior citizens were highly underestimated. I'd say they'd give even a street gang a run for their money.

"I don't think the knives are necessary either, but thanks for caring so much about my safety," I said gratefully.

The knives disappeared. _What next—hand grenades?_

Suddenly I felt a pretty firm pinch on my ass. Turning around, I found Mr. Wolensky giggling like a naughty schoolboy.

"Mr. Wolensky!" I scolded, my eyes filled with surprise.

"Sorry! But you sure do make a fetching old lady, Stephanie. I wish I could find one with a nice, firm butt like yours. Mostly, they just feel like dimpled marshmallows!" He shook his head, as if that was a pretty disgusting thought.

I didn't want to break the news to him, but his own ass probably felt the same way to _his_ lady friends!

We exited the elevator in a pack, making our way as though we were attached to one another like Siamese quadruplets as we shuffled toward the car. The taller guys stayed on either side of me, so no one could see my face clearly. Mr. Warnick carried my big black bag, holding my skip tracing equipment and a pair of boots I'd brought to change into.

We got to the car uneventfully and as premeditated. I had plenty of assistance getting into the back seat to make me look pretty unstable on my own feet. The car filled up with all four of my cohorts, and off we went.

"Where to Steph? Do we need to drive like maniacs to lose this loser or what?"

"NOOOOOO! Before I could explain anything, Mr. Wolensky hit the gas hard, and the old Lincoln Towncar lurched forward like the cow jumping over the moon!

"I'm just going to Slater Street. You might pass it if you keep driving at that speed!" My eyes were bugging out as I felt the push back into my seat from the speed of light driving.

"Don't you worry, Stephanie—we won't let that asshole catch us. I can drive this baby from zero to a hundred and twenty in less than an hour!"

"Okay—well—uh—you need to stop. Slater Street is right there." I pointed it out over the middle of the back seat, holding on for dear life to the upholstery of the cushions in front of me.

"Are you sure? We were looking forward to a joyride just like the old days!" He slammed on the brakes.

The delighted laughter from the entire car told me what an amazingly wonderful time they felt they were having.

"I'm sure. Right here, please." He came to a screeching stop.

I sighed in relief. The last thing Joe needed was to hear I'd been killed going a few blocks in a runaway car packed full of senior citizens. He'd never live down the teasing that it'd only taken a bunch of old people to take me out after raving lunatics, mass murderers and vicious street gangs had all failed to dispose of me.

I tried to get out but not before gratefully planting kisses on all their cheeks. This wasn't the first time they'd saved my ass. I was so lucky to have such sweet friends. They were one of the reasons I'd never considered leaving my apartment for someplace with a younger atmosphere. There was something so charming and awe inspiring about the history they held inside their hearts. Yet, there was an almost youthful innocence in the way they approached life—guns—knives, wild driving and all.

Kate's POV

I took a deep breath. The Joe and Stephanie reunion mission should be underway by now. I couldn't believe I was back here at Rangeman. But Ranger had called me to let me know there'd been a slight change in the way it was all going to happen. He'd barely been able to stop laughing when he'd explained Stephanie was using a motorcycle to get to her appointed destination. And then I'd laughed when he'd told me of her ingenious disguise.

It felt strange to laugh together, after so much intensity between us. I guess it was nervous laughter we'd both needed to break the ice. How was I going to act like this was business when the matter at hand was extremely personal for both of us?

He'd suggested I come there to wait out Stephanie's arrival at Joe's house. He was afraid if she saw me at Joe's, we'd come to blows after our angrily charged breakfast a few days ago. I had nowhere else to wait, so I decided to be casual about it and agreed. We needed to know all our arrangements were going to go off without a hitch. Earlier that day, Eddie had brought supplies to Joe, and in doing so, had hidden Joe's gun. The last thing we needed was for Joe to use it on Stephanie. We'd let him know where it was once the two of them had been safely reunited.

This while thing was becoming more complicated than a full-blown Secret Service operation used to guard the President!

I knew it wouldn't be smooth sailing at first for Joe and Stephanie. Because of me, there would be issues to sort through, but as long as neither of them were armed, I was pretty sure they'd get past the tension and on to more loving moments. It felt right. I felt as though a little piece of the old Meghan was returning. If those two at least had some happiness, I could feel good again. It had been such a long time since I'd felt that.

Ranger handed me a coffee mug and returned to the chair across the room. I was grateful, because as sentimental as I was feeling for Joe and Stephanie, I might be in too vulnerable of a place to keep my resolve about us.

"I—think this was a good idea," he admitted, taking a sip.

"Yeah, it'd better work. It's the only thing that made sense."

"Well the stupid idiots better get their act together while they still can!"

"You're calling Stephanie stupid?" I was more than a little surprised.

Ranger shrugged, his mouth curled slightly. "She chose him didn't she?"

I couldn't help but laugh, because that was Ranger through and through. He made Lancelot from Camelot seem like a humble man.

"Is this hard for you?"

"No. This is what B—Steph wants, and she deserves to be happy."

"That's an almost human reaction."

"Yeah, well I slip-up every once in awhile."

"I remember." I wanted to bite my tongue. _Damn it! Keep it impersonal._

"We should be hearing from Eddie once the bird has landed on the terrace."

"Knowing Stephanie, it won't be an easy landing!"

"She's had a few mishaps over the years, according to Joe."

"She's hell on wheels. And she's stubborn and pigheaded as they come. Not a lot different than you," he said reflectively.

I felt a zing to my heart I didn't want to feel. "We woman have it tough getting along in a man's world.

"I think you're all smarter than you want us to know." Ranger's eyes smiled. He had beautiful eyes.

"Maybe we are at that."

Ranger's phone buzzed. He looked at the text. "She just arrived at Joe's."

"Good. Now the rest is up to them."

"Those two have taken forever to get into the same book let alone on the same page." Ranger shook his head. "I supposed I wasn't much help," he added regretfully.

"Joe really loves her."

"That's no longer disputable," he agreed quietly.

"Well, then, to Joe and Stephanie." I raised my cup to him, and he raised his back. I felt the weight I'd held on my shoulders slowly slipping away, knowing when we had confirmation they were at the safe house together it would feel even lighter.

"To Stephanie and the idiot!" he agreed with a resigned smile.

Steph's POV

I scrambled down some darkened alleys making my way to Joe's house. The sun had set long before, and I had to use the light from the dimly lit streetlamps. When I got to his yard, the house was dark. Kate must've left for the evening. Good. The idea of her taking up residence in _our_ house was not something I wanted to think about at all.

When it hit me that Morelli wasn't inside and might not be for a very long time, I felt like crying and had to rub my sleeve across my eyes. Now I missed him even more. When had this place become home to me?

I heard the growl first, as a shadowy shape approached me. A loud sniff changed the greeting to a friendly, loving bark. I felt myself being plastered to the ground by a familiar, furry friend.

"Bob—it's me! Oh my God, I miss you so much! I wish I could stay and play with you, boy, but I have to go."

I petted him lovingly, holding him close to me and feeling Morelli's absence as much as he did.

"I love you Bob, and I love your daddy too. We're all going to be home soon. You're such a good boy! You know how much we love you. Rex misses you too."

He licked my face and hands. Somehow he understood I couldn't stay, because he started in with some plaintive and miserable howling.

"Don't go there! I won't be able to stay strong if you cry!" I ordered him, giving him one last giant hug.

Hustling to the shed, I pulled the key from the pocket of my dress. I hoped like hell Morelli had left the Ducati key in its usual, secret hiding place. I was afraid he might've changed the locks on the shed when he'd changed the locks on the house to keep me out, but, thank God, he hadn't!

Shimming out of the geriatric clothing quickly, I took my black leather boots from the bag, slid them on and then pulled the side zippers down on the sleek sexy black leather riding pants Morelli had given me.

Blowing out a tinge of guilt for using his precious baby without his permission, I searched for the key to the Ducati.

Bingo!

I straightened the leather jacket that had gone askew from the dress having covered it. My hair was still pinned up tight from wearing the wig. Shoving the black and red helmet over my head, I was ready to rumble. I took the bike from the shed, surveying the house and surroundings carefully with my flashlight before proceeding. Bob howled only slightly as if he knew loud noises would call unwanted attention.

Taking the bike as quietly as possible, I walked it a little ways before jumping onto the seat and putting the key to ignition. Revving the humming motor, I felt free letting the tailwinds push me to the appointed destination.

So far I was on schedule. Clouds were rolling in. Feeling the first sprinkles of an April rain splattering my hands, I picked up the speed to beat the storm that was fast approaching.

I neared the address Eddie had given to me. Deciding to play it safe, I stopped the Ducati half a block away. Walking toward the alley behind the building where I was to meet Eddie, I assured myself the bike was sheltered safely. Joe would kill me if anything happened to it. Okay maybe not kill, but the look he'd give me would be close enough.

Eddie was leaning against his SUV. There was an overhang that allowed us protection from the rain, and the streetlight gave us enough illumination to make out our surroundings.

"Thanks, Steph, I know I was supposed to—wait a minute—is that Joe's Du—?" He gave me a surprised look. Then a bit of barely muffled laughter.

What the hell was so funny about me riding a damned motorcycle?

"Yeah, I had NO choice. And it's not like he's going to be using it!"

"No," Eddie smiled fondly, shaking his head. "That's true I guess. How about you give me five minutes to get up there? I'm sorry—I should've checked out the address before, but you'll need to climb up that fire escape to get to the back entrance. See the sliding glass doors?"

He pointed, and I could make out some interior lights shining through.

"Jeez, good thing I wore my climbing clothes!"

"You sure you're ready for this?" he asked again.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

The rain had started to come down fast and furious. Lightening was zapping across the sky in all directions.

"I have the cuffs and the spray. Let's get this over with before we turn into drowned rats."

I wasn't wild about climbing on the metal stairs with the lightning surrounding me, but I sent my fears packing. Eddie took off for the front of the building, and I counted down the minutes by lighting up my watch every so often. There was a dense fog rolling in. I wondered if the guy would even try to escape in this horrible, stormy weather. Suddenly I longed for the security of my own apartment. It didn't seem quite as much like a prison as it had before.

Joe's POV

The early spring rain turned from a light sprinkle to a sudden deluge, hitting hard and creating puddles on the deserted streets down below. Walking through the apartment, I checked windows for leaks. I wasn't familiar with the place, and so I didn't want any flooding surprises.

I heard the sound of the doorbell and checked first to see who was there. _Eddie again?_ I had just seen him that afternoon when he'd brought supplies and clothing for me.

"Hi, did you forget to give me something?"

"Just a few more clothes. Your wife wanted to make sure you have everything you need."

"How could I need more clothing? Women, they always pack too much!" I joked with Eddie. I still wasn't used to wearing the gold band residing on my left finger.

"Yeah, go figure. Shirley packs up like she's going for a month when it's just a weekend."

"Well thanks for bringing everything. Say you didn't happen to see my gun when you were here earlier did you? For some damned reason I can't find it anywhere?"

"I doubt you'll need it, Joe. This is supposed to be a safe house after all," he joked.

"Maybe, but it's strange. I know I had it. Then it just disappeared."

"Probably the loft fairies got it," he made fun of me in his usual wise-ass way.

"Thanks for everything, Eddie. I know this isn't easy to keep from the other guys."

"It's okay, Joe. It's all for a good cause."

I couldn't resist asking him, "Have you seen Steph at all?"

"Yeah, I left one of your notes in the bathroom the other day. She must've found it by now."

"I'm sure she did. Thanks."

"I gotta get going. Shirley will be sending out a search party soon."

"The weather's really ugly. You don't want her to worry. I'll see you soon, Eddie."

I hoped I'd see him again—he'd been one of my best, most trusted friends.

"Ok, good luck. I mean—um—I'll be seeing you too." He smiled, and we shook hands.

He left, and I closed the door, locking it securely and feeling very alone. This big huge place was a reminder I had no one to talk to or hold or sleep with. God I missed Stephanie more than I'd dreamed was possible.

Deciding to return to my flood watch duties, I found a partially opened window that led out to the patio from the bedroom. I was just closing it when I heard a metallic scrapping sound. It was originating from the terraced area. The creaking continued rhythmically as though someone was climbing up the side of the apartment building, on the fire escape.

I quickly turned off all the lights.

Shit! Where the hell was my gun?

Making my way quietly out the French doors to the ledged terrace, I was immediately drenched in the torrential downpour. It could be to my advantage. If I couldn't see much, neither would the intruder. Had someone followed Eddie? Why wouldn't he have noticed? Damn it. The only weapons I had were my hands—along with the element of surprise.

Being careful not to bump into the patio furniture, I plastered myself against the jagged brick side of the building and hid in the deep shadows of a large tree branch hanging over the north corner of the loft. The creaking sounds continued as the intruder made his way up toward the safe house.

It wasn't long before I heard the unmistakable sound of the interloper's boots as he jumped down onto the terrace. I made my move. I could barely make out the silhouette between the pouring rain and the fast approaching fog. It was a complete stab in the dark. Grabbing his jacket, I twirled him around to face me. I couldn't see a damn thing!

I put him into a chokehold, feeling pretty secure I'd won this battle, when to my utter astonishment; I felt my body being catapulted into an aerial summersault. My boot-bruised side clunked down onto the hard cement, splashing puddles of water all over us. The air was knocked out of me for a split second, and as I regained oxygen, the perpetrator took full advantage of my momentary incapacitation, jumping onto me and pummeling me furiously with his fists.

Shit!

The guy hadn't felt like he had much weight behind him when I'd grabbed him, but he sure packed a wallop of a punch. It didn't help that I was already kind of bruised and battered to begin with.

I scooted by body away, growling with the effort. Grabbing at the wildly gyrating body on top of me, he finally lost his advantage when I moved out from underneath him. Whoever this idiot turned out to be was a vicious fighter!

I managed to knock him off his knees and throw him enough off balance that his entire mass fell straight on top of me. Both of us were flatly plastered together by the soaking wet state of our clothing, which was serving as a suctioning conduit.

We laid there in dead silence for a few seconds. There was no mistaking the intuitiveness flowing over me as I recognized the familiar feelings. I'd felt this body under and over mine countless times. I fought the overwhelming urge to pull her closer and kiss her for all she was worth.

I heard a huge gasp.

"My God, Morelli!

We'd both recognized one another at the same time.

"Cup—Stephanie!" I yelled out, every bit as shocked as she was.

"What in the hell are you doing here?" we shouted out in unison, while the splattering rain cascaded over us.


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30

No Profit. Not my characters.

Carol thank you isn't enough. Doing this on a Holiday weekend when you are so busy with family and other concerns is beyond anything I expected. You're a sweetheart, and a dearly treasured friend.

Thanks to all who are reading and reviewing. I really appreciate your candid comments and the feelings you share with me. I take everything you say into consideration and value it genuinely as I continue with this story.

**Steph's POV**

"What in the hell are you doing here!" we shouted out in unison.

The primitive beat of the rain combined with the racing beat of my heart against Morelli's chest was mind-blowing. His was pulsating with equal velocity, sending bolts of lightning through me that could easily have beaten the voltage zigzagging across the sky.

I could barely believe my good fortune. Tears of joy were stinging my eyes, mixing in with the raindrops trickling down my face. He was right there underneath my body, instead of what might as well have been a zillion miles away. There were no bars separating us, no cement walls, no one saying we had to stay apart. NOTHING was holding us back from one another! Was I dreaming? If I was, I hoped no one would ever wake me up!

"God!" I cried out in utter happiness.

I don't know which one of us came out of the shock first for we simply combusted spontaneously into one another, our deprived lips meeting feverishly. My mouth opened up to invite his as though it had been held in a cryonic chamber for eons and banned from its most desired sustenance. His hands pulled me closer while both of mine caressed his beloved, sorely missed face, memorizing every detail of his features.

The kisses escalated from soft, sad longing to hot, passionate bliss. We broke for air only to imbibe in more and more kisses until it was impossible to tell the first from the hundredth. A common thread of molten, joyous abandonment linked them all. In his arms, I felt whole safe and treasured. I needed him more than all the cake, donuts, peanut butter or candy bars in the world!

I wanted to rip off his clothing and make him mine again, so much so, that I started to unbutton his soaked-to-the-skin shirt. As I did, however, something stopped cold between us. I had no idea why but I sensed Joe wasn't feeling the same passion I was any longer. In fact, his hands fell off me as though they were weighted rocks. He struggled to get up, while pushing my fingers away from his shirt and shoving me off of him.

"Nice flip," he said, his voice a low, hardly amused growl.

"Oh my God, Joe—your bullet wound! Did I hurt you?"

"That's a question I'd really like an answer to." He had to talk loudly over the blast of thunder and hard fast droplets still pelting over us.

"What do you mean?" I shouted back after hearing the rigidity in his voice. Something was terribly wrong, but I had no idea what it was.

"We need to get the hell out of this storm!" He grabbed my elbow. Opening the sliding door, he pushed me into the apartment almost as if he wished he didn't have to have his hand on me at all.

I didn't care. My hands reached out for him reflexively in the blackness and held on to his puckered drenched shirt. I could feel his body tensing up under my touch.

He quickly ended the darkness inside by switching on a light. We stood there staring at one other—both of us dripping wet. Our breathing was still accelerated, partly from negotiating our way in the storm but mostly from all the breathless kissing. I wanted to pick up where we'd left off, but Morelli's face told me he wanted nothing of the kind.

His eyes surveyed me as if I was a mystery to him. Why? What the hell had happened? I'd been right about something being off between us.

"What's wrong Joe?" I asked him pleadingly, because the last thing I wanted was ANY more distance to separate us.

"You need to get out of those wet clothes. You're shivering." He took a step to walk away, and I advanced on him, grabbing his arm. I was determined to get answers. He shrugged me off.

"No! Tell me what the hell's going on! We've been apart for ages, and all I want is to be in your arms. You don't want me there! Why? What the hell is wrong with you?" I screamed. I was becoming more and more distraught over his cold behavior.

"Steph, the bathroom is right off the bedroom," he said, pointing out the general direction. "You need to get out of those clothes and get into something warm." He made his way over to a big duffle bag sitting by the door.

Shaking his head in disgust, he continued, "Just as I suspected—these are not for me. They're for you."

He took out a pair of soft sweats and some socks. There was a bra and underwear in the bag too.

"Apparently someone knew you were going to be here. I sure as hell didn't!"

He walked over to me, keeping as much space as he could between us, and held the clothing out to me. I ignored the gesture. This wasn't how I'd pictured seeing him again.

Finally he threw the clothing on the couch.

"Fine!" I said, lividly. "You don't want me here, Morelli? Then I'll go!"

I turned on my heel. Suddenly I felt both his hands grab the back of my leather jacket. Thank God! I didn't want to go anywhere. I'd rather be there with him—even if we were fighting—because it was better than being without him for even one more second.

**Joe's POV**

"You're NOT going anywhere in this storm! How the hell—" I stopped as I surveyed her outfit.

She stood there in her catlike, skintight clothing. The slinky, black leather pants, black boots and cropped, black leather jacket were soaking wet. Her hair was plastered to her head. Tiny wet droplets dotted her face. My God she looked HOT! It was all I could do not to grab her up into my arms and take that indignation right out of her eyes! I wanted to replace it with passionate begging. Shit! How in the hell did she always manage to get under my skin like that!

But first I wanted to get to the bottom of why she was wearing that outfit! My brain was screaming the answer, but I couldn't quite believe it.

"How did you get here?" I could feel the Plum frustration vein popping on my forehead.

She blushed. Her eyes changed from accusatory to guilty in split seconds. I had the sudden realization the hot, sexy outfit was the one I'd given her for going riding with me on my motorcycle. I knew she still had the keys to my shed. I hadn't bothered to change the locks on it when I'd changed my other doors.

Big mistake.

"**YOU stole my Ducati?**" My eyes were wide as a hooting owl's. "**YOU took my bike!**" I pointed at myself as if she had mortally wounded me.

"You're supposed to be in jail, so it wasn't like you were going to be using it!" She had that little girl, I-didn't-do-it-expression that both aggravated the hell out of me and melted me at the same time.

"It's MY bike!"

"I thought you were in jail! How can you be here if you're supposed to be there?" she asked again, trying to put two and two together. My life with Stephanie being figured out with simple math was not a possibility.

Her blue eyes looked darker in the industrial loft lighting. "What the hell! You don't get to ask the questions—I do! How did you know where to find me?"

"I wasn't looking for you. I was helping Eddie. He asked me to watch the back of this apartment in case a deadbeat dad he was about to confront tried to make an escape!"

"Eddie came here with you?"

"Yes."

"My God, it's a set up."

"Why would he set us up? Why wouldn't he just tell us we were going to see one another?"

"Good questions. I have no idea. But whoever did this wasn't Eddie. He doesn't have the authority to do this."

"_Eddie_ is in on your operation?" she asked, the truth suddenly hitting her. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"I told you WAY more than I was supposed to. And why I bothered, I don't even know!"

**Steph's POV**

His wet, dark curls were plastered to his head. His bruised face was healing, but to me he'd never looked more handsome or sexually tempting. I couldn't wrap my mind around the fact he wasn't happy to see me. I was so elated to be with him. Why did he look so angry? Why was he saying hurtful, cruel things to me?

"Why are you so mad at me?"

"How were you able to steal my Ducati?"

"It really wasn't stealing, Morelli. It's more like community property by now."

"We've never _had_ community property. _We_ aren't married!"

His hands flew around in manic gestures, and I caught a glimpse for the very first time of the gold band on the third finger of his left hand. I wanted to rip it off and throw it in a fire, imagining how satisfied my smile would be when it melted into ashes.

"We would have been if you'd just—you married that FBI bitch from hell."

"I did that to _protect _you! Remember?"

"Talk about stealing. Look what she's done to us!"

"Kate has nothing to do with this."

"Oh doesn't she?"

"No, she doesn't. This is about you, me—" He made a fist at the air. "God, I can't even believe I'm having to say it again—and Ranger!"

"Ranger? What the hell does he have to do with any of this?"

"Shit! What do you take me for a complete idiot?"

"When you're acting like one, why wouldn't I? I have no idea what the hell is going on with you." I gave him my most deadly look.

"You don't? Really? Well let me just refresh your goddamned memory then."

He took two strides to get to a briefcase by the sofa, withdrawing a manila envelope.

"Here, maybe these will give you a clue!" He shoved them at me as if they were hot embers in his hands.

I looked down, surveying both photos, then up at him. I couldn't hide the guilt I was reliving. "Where the hell did you get these? Are you having someone spy on me?"

He laughed derisively. "That's Manoso's M.O., not mine."

"How did you get them?" I asked again. My voice had become wobbly, knowing confession time was at hand, albeit not the confession he was expecting.

"What? No denial. No, this-isn't-what-it-looks-like, Joe. Why am I not shocked?" He started his usual irate pacing.

I pointed at him angrily. "Why deny what's so obvious to you. You believed the worst of me. So much for our big renewal of trust! You took one look at these and had me tried and convicted without so much as being willing to consider for ONE second I might have had a good reason for being there!" I was pretty pissed and deeply hurt.

"Truthfully, Stephanie—I've taken hundreds of looks at those pictures. I've been trying with everything in me to find the trust I thought we had. But this evidence is pretty damning. It's really hard to come up with more than ONE plausible reason why you were in his arms!"

"Who gave those to you?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It _does_ to me."

"Well too bad. You got caught. I'm not divulging the source. I should be grateful the person had the decency to reveal the truth."

"You wouldn't know the truth if it flew up, hit you between the eyes and plastered itself to your fucking forehead!" I shot back. He wanted a fight? Fine—he was about to get his frickin' wish!

"Why don't you tell me the truth?"

"Why bother?" I wanted to cry. "You're _never_ going to trust me! It's like you've always said, 'without trust we have nothing'."

"That tells me everything I need to know." His eyes were dark and filled with my supposed betrayal.

I started to shake like a leaf. Wrapping my arms around myself, I longed for some sign of his love. "I didn't know you were here. If I'd known you were and that you didn't want _me_ here—" My voice broke at the heartbreaking realization. "I wouldn't have come."

**Joe's POV**

"Well you're here now, and there's not much we can do about it tonight."

My eyes shot out fiery resentment.

"Oh, yes there is. I'm leaving."

"The hell you are!" I took the steps to put myself between her and the door.

"Get the fuck out of my way, Morelli. I'm out of here!"

"NO!"

"Why? You don't _want _me. You don't _trust_ me. You're not even _happy_ to see me."

"God! How am I supposed to be? Do you know how much I've dreamed of this—?" He swiped a hand across his forehead. "Forget it! I can't let you out in this storm. You'll kill yourself, and you'll wreck my bike."

"Is that all that you care about? That friggin bike of yours means more to you than I do!"

"If you believe that, then you're an absolutely ignorant brat!" I shouted at her. "Though why the hell you have to steal every means of transportation I've ever had is beyond me!"

"It wasn't like I could ask you! How the hell was I supposed to get in touch with you? You think I like being so cut off from you? I hate it!"

"Yeah right—that's what propelled you right back to Ranger's arms. The fact you were missing me so damned much!"

"I wasn't in—"

"You shouldn't have touched my Ducati, and you sure as hell shouldn't be touching me!" I pointed to my chest with both hands as though I'd been stabbed in the heart.

"Don't worry—I don't want anything to do with you either. As for your fucking motorcycle, I was trying to approach this thing with Eddie quietly. I couldn't very well bring Big Blue, could I?" she asked as if it was the most logical thing in the world to steal my wheels—again!

"It's Grand Theft! How in the hell did you do it? Kate is there with Bob."

"Your _wife _wasn't home! Bob was. He was so sad. And it wasn't Grand Theft; it was Grand Borrowing," she argued like the pro-fighter she'd always been.

I gave her one of my most perturbed looks, pretending to ignore the Bob comment but my heart did a little jerk at the thought of my mangy mutt missing me. I sure as hell missed him too.

"You snuck out of your apartment, and you went to my house. You knew you weren't supposed to be anywhere near that house. _Everything_ I'm trying to do to protect you could've been jeopardized by your careless actions!"

"I wasn't careless. I got clearance for _everything_ I did."

"From whom?"

"Ranger," she admitted reluctantly.

I snorted skeptically. "Why would he approve of you coming to see me?"

"I don't know." She really seemed as perplexed as I was.

We were both breathing hard from anger and the constant sniping at one another. Even so, my mind was drifting back to the terrace and how I'd felt with her lips and body pressed so close to mine. I wanted that more than I wanted to be _right_.

I needed time to think everything through. Who had decided to get the two of us together? We were supposed to be as far away from one other as possible. Ranger would never think of reuniting us. But someone obviously had gotten him to agree to it, and I had my suspicion of the culprit.

I blew out my never-ending frustration. Knowing we had only a small window of time, I wanted to have a very different reunion than the one we'd been having so far. I needed some distance from Stephanie to get my thoughts together, which was pretty ironic. We'd been apart and it's been torturous. Knowing things would only progressively escalate if we continued in the direction we were headed, I felt the desire to try to get some perspective back for both of us.

"You need to get out of those clothes, Steph. You're trembling. You'll catch your death."

"What do you care?" she asked rancorously.

I held my forehead between two fingers, counting until I felt my composure returning.

"Please let's give it a rest. There's a lot of women's clothing in that bag. There's a robe hanging on the bathroom door and plenty of towels in there. We can wait on the rest until you get warm."

I was so used to watching out for her, trying to give her what she needed. It was second nature to put her welfare above anything else.

She hesitated. I could see the defiance in her eyes. Oh boy! Were we in for round two before she'd even taken her shower?

"Okay—thanks."

She grabbed the clothing I'd already gathered off the couch and squished her way across the tile floor towards the bedroom. I watched, feeling a little relieved to have a reprieve from whatever was going to happen next.

Out of the blue, my Cupcake intuition kicked in full throttle. The relief I'd felt departed quickly, when I realized why she'd given in so easily.

I called after her. "Forget it! The window is way too high and way too small. You'd never make it."

She let out a frustrated growl and continued to grumble as she slammed the door. Hearing her bold expletives all the way across the bedroom, I couldn't help but laugh and shake my head. She was one for the—no—she was the ONLY woman for me. What in the hell, would I ever do without her?

I took off my wet shirt and was just about to remove my soaked jeans as well when suddenly the subject of my one-tracked thoughts reappeared, looking completely exasperated.

"What? Is there a problem with the shower?"

"I can't get these leather pants off."

**Steph's POV**

"What do you mean?" he asked, completely perplexed.

"They're wet, and I can't get them down. The zipper worked fine, and they fit perfectly when I put them on."

"You sure you haven't been indulging in too many donuts or cakes lately?" he asked, obviously not valuing his life much.

"That's not funny, Morelli! And if I was indulging, it's your fault. _You_ sent them to me!"

_Damn it!_

As much as I was trying to stay strong, the memory of the sweetness of his gifts and his thoughtfulness just made this distant angry Joe that much harder to take. In spite of my best effort not to cry, a single tear rolled down my cheek. I wanted us back to where we'd been. Whatever he thought he knew about Ranger and me wasn't true. It hurt like hell that he was so sure it was.

"You're right. I did. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you cry," he relented. If he could yield, then so could I.

"I _didn't _sleep with Ranger," I blurted out, because all I wanted was MY Joe back! I'd hurt him so much in the past. I had little hope he'd ever believe me.

"What _did_ you do with him?" he asked, unable to let the suspicion go for even a moment.

"NOTHING! I ran to him—to Rangeman—to get away from my stalker—the one from the grocery store!"

His mouth fell open as his brainwaves went to work in overdrive. I saw cop mode kick in, while his eyes calculated every word I'd said.

"Back up a minute. How did you know you still had a stalker?"

"It's a long story."

"I'm listening," he retorted, obviously irritated.

"I'd gotten a call on my home phone. He'd left a message while I'd been at my parents recuperating. I had no idea he'd called until I returned to the apartment."

"We were still using the cell phones then. Why in the hell didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to worry you," I admitted feebly.

His eyes darkened and his facial expressions mimicked the storm outside. "Excuse me? This is me remember—the guy who is trying to do _everything_ in his power to keep you safe. You get threatened by a man who nearly—" He hesitated, unable to say the words. "And you don't even see fit to let me know?"

His eyes were sort of popping out of their sockets. He wasn't sexy Morelli whenever that happened.

"You had enough going on! You were marrying Kate, and it just didn't feel like he was connected to the criminals in jail."

"Shit!"

"I know I _should _have told you. He called a second time too, making threats."

"Jesus Christ, Stephanie!" He looked disappointed in me for not being honest. "What the hell did you think it would accomplish not to tell me?"

"I wasn't thinking straight. All I could think about was that you were going to prison for me. You were marrying _her_ for ME! You were leaving me for God knows how long. I could hardly wrap my mind around any of that, let alone the fact I was still in danger. I know now how stupid it was. I guess I didn't take it seriously enough."

"What the fuck! He put you in the hospital. My God! When I think of you covered in bruises and knife wounds—" His voice broke off. I heard my Joe in his voice—again.

"I know. I'm sorry! The last thing I wanted was to make you more worried, or bring you more stress."

"What happened? Did he come after you again?"

"I was supposed to lie low because of the press. Ranger ordered me to stay in my apartment."

"Uh oh."

I nodded miserably. "You know me. Tell me to do one thing and I always do another."

"You went out?" His voice was soft and almost indulgent.

My eyes pleaded with him to see my side. "I was climbing the walls. I'd watched you get arrested, beaten and shot the day before. It practically killed me to see that! Do you have any idea how much I wanted to be with you? I begged Ranger to make it happen, but he refused. I felt like I'd been tortured all day and night. All I wanted was to be with you."

"Steph—" He held out a hand to me, and I clasped my fingers through his. It felt so good to have him want to touch me again.

"I needed a damned candy bar!" I couldn't keep the self-hatred from my voice.

"Well without me around, who could blame you?" He tried to lighten the mood, but I was fighting off the returning guilt of having been so stupid and careless. The fact he wasn't yelling or chewing me out at all made me feel even worse.

"I had chocolate cake, pineapple upside down cake and chocolate chip cookies in the apartment."

"You needed a Snickers or a Kit Kat," he commiserated. "If I'd seen anything like that happen to you, and I couldn't be by your side? I'd have needed a hell of a lot more than chocolate too!"

That did it. He knew me so damned well and loved me in spite of everything I'd done. I burst into a flood of tears.

**Joe's POV**

Taking Stephanie into my arms, I held her as if she was a porcelain doll. The thought of anyone even trying to hurt her ever again was too horrible to comprehend.

"Tell me everything. I'm sorry I was such a pig-headed idiot before. I missed you like crazy, and I want you every bit as much as you want me, Cupcake."

A huge sigh escaped on a sobbing gulp. "I love it when you call me that!"

"I love _you,_ Cupcake." I whispered softly, lightly nibbling on her ear.

"Oh God, Joe—I love you too! You sent me a Morelli cake and donuts and that sexy sweet note. And it made me miss you even more!"

"It was an Illerom cake!" I chuckled; pleased she'd enjoyed it.

"I saved it in the freezer for when you come home!" She started to cry a little bit more.

"It's okay. I'm here now. Don't cry. You know how much I hate it when you cry."

She looked up with those voluminous, incandescent eyes of hers, and I was lost. She probably would have me eating out of her hand again—even if she _had_ slept with Ranger.

"I haven't told you what happened when I went out for that candy bar."

"You can tell me. I'm not mad." I stroked her hair.

She told me everything, and by the time she was done, I'd slowly pulled her closer and closer to me as if to protect her from the evil, sick monster that'd scared her half to death. By the time she got to the Rangeman part, she was sitting in my lap, and though we were both still sopping wet, our arms were wrapped tightly around one another.

I began to kiss her eyelids, the tip of her nose, both earlobes, and I smiled remembering our last phone conversation.

"I like doing this in person a lot better," she whispered, reading my mind.

"You and me both," I agreed fervently. "It's been too damned long!"

_How in the hell was I going leave her all over again?_

Our mouths opened hungrily. I felt as though I wanted to devour her. I'd missed her so goddamned much.

Grasping her hand, we rose from the sofa simultaneously. We were standing so close I could feel her breath. _At last!_ We couldn't tear our eyes away as unspoken passion sparked between us. Our hands reached out like thousands of times before, so happy to finally have the task they most enjoyed before them.

Unbuttoning her shirt, I removed it, and dropped it to the ground. I saw her lacy bra and felt so fucking lucky. I nuzzled my lips into the valley between her breasts, taking in the fragrance I'd loved for so long.

Standing, I traced my finger down her cheek as if memorizing each and every part of her, while my other hand pulled the pins gently from her hair. It fell in wet tendrils around her face. Her eyes smiled at me, and I gave her a look that left no doubt of my intentions.

Cupping my hands around her face, I pulled her close to me. Our foreheads pressed together; our noses brushed softly, and then our faces parted. Our eyes locked, revealing voracious desire for one another. Kisses became guttural murmurs, and caresses became demanding explorations. We were so insanely hungry for one another the intensity was extreme.

Reaching for the zipper on her leather pants, she undid my belt and then the zipper and button on my jeans at the same time. I started to shove the slacks down, but they wouldn't budge. God! Was this some kind of sick joke?

_What the hell!_

"Oh my God Joe, I forgot!" She looked as frustrated as I was feeling. Someone up there had a very warped sense of humor.

"What in the shit is wrong with these things?" I asked.

They should've come right off. I pushed a little harder and still nothing.

Stephanie wiggled and shimmied and danced while holding the waistband. She pushed and shoved like she had ants in her pants.

"Are we on some warped reality show?" I asked, figuring by now nothing was impossible.

"I don't know what to do," she moaned.

"Got scissors?" I asked, only half kidding.

"NO! You gave me these!"

"I promise I'll buy you another pair. Hell, I'll buy you an entire closetful if you can tell me why these damned things won't come down! Wait—what in the hell is that?" I stood surveying a funny piece of elastic barely peaking out at the top of her hips.

"It's a long story."

"Are you kidding me? You want to talk now?"

"NO! I want to—YOU KNOW!"

"Well whatever that is, I think your pants are stuck to it!"

"It's a garter belt."

"Why would you be wearing a garter belt?" The sexual hunger was dissipating and aggravation was quickly filling the void.

"I had to think of a disguise to get out of my apartment safely."

"So you wore strange underwear that no one would ever see?"

"I wore Mrs. Bestler's clothing and that included a garter belt with the old style, single pull up silk nylons with seams running up the middle. I think the pants are caught on the garter belt somehow."

"You dressed up as old Mrs. Bestler?" I laughed out loud, picturing Steph in Mrs. Bestlers old-fashioned garb.

**Steph's POV**

"I was actually thinking of myself as old Mrs. Joe Morelli," I informed him without reservation for the first time ever.

"I like the sound of that."

He grinned ear to ear, and his eyes held a sparkle I'd never seen before. He wanted me to become Old Mrs. Joe Morelli as much as I did.

"When I got to your house, I couldn't very well wear the clothing from Mrs. Bestler to ride the Ducati, so underneath I had the legs of the pants zipped up. I pulled them high enough to not show under the dress. I did the same with the jacket."

"So the old lady clothing is in my shed?"

"Yeah."

"Too bad. I was ready to play dirty old man with you."

"I just bet you were." I shook my head, smiling as I pictured him with graying hair and a mustache. Even with a cane, he'd somehow carry the same swagger he'd had his whole life. I knew I'd love this man forever. I'd never really see the graying or the wrinkles. I'd always see him as a little boy, or an eighteen year old, or that magnetic tough, wiseass cop that loved me through to my soul.

His voice snapped me out of my reverie.

"Okay, you just have to let me put my hand inside and see if I can feel the thing that is snagging the leather to that garter gizmo."

He slid his hand down over my stomach, and I felt heat explode instantly in my southern parts. His fingers slid playfully over the granny underwear I had on. I blushed with embarrassment. I'd have worn something that went with my outer outfit rather than the leather had I known I'd be seeing Joe.

"Not wearing a thong?" he asked disappointedly, a playful smirk on his face.

"Nope. I didn't know you were going to be here. Remember?"

"If you had?"

"Definitely," I assured him.

His hands slid none too modestly over my thighs, and his fingers did a little dance close to my doodah area. He was having fun torturing me. I let out a tiny moan, and Morelli chuckled again.

"You're kind of ready for me, Cupcake."

"I was born ready. I was ready when I realized I was on top of you out on that terrace. I was ready the moment I felt your heart racing against mine, and our lips met—I was ready—"

"Steph, if you keep talking that way, I'll be done before you get those damned pants off! His fingers were walking slowly around my thighs trying to find a way to help me get the hell out of this friggin predicament!

"Okay, I think I got it. It _was _caught."

"But it's happening on both sides."

"His hand came back up, brushing against my stomach and delving back to the other leg of the slacks. As he did, he continued with his little temptation finger tango leaving me nearly panting and salivating for him. He took a break to kiss me thoroughly before making any real effort to unhook whatever was stopping the leather from sliding down my body.

"Finally," he sighed, relieved to have gotten the other leg released. I was overjoyed!

He was down on his knees and sliding the pants down a little more, when his fingers jerked to a stop. The look on his face was anything but horny. He scrunched his eyebrows and bit his lip.

"What!"

"It's a good thing we haven't had sex in weeks," he muttered.

"You don't like the old fashioned nylons?"

"Did you see what's written on those old fashioned nylons?"

"No—I didn't see anything. I dressed in a hurry."

Joe started to laugh out loud, and the sound of it made me laugh too. God only knew we both needed a reason to laugh.

"What does it say?" He pointed out the top of the nylon across the thick elastic band attaching to the garter where there was lettering in bright pink embroidery.

"It says, 'For a good time call Sally Sweet'. "There's a phone number too!" Joe was still chuckling uncontrollably.

"What! How the hell can it say that? These aren't his! They can't be!"

"Apparently good old Mrs. Bestler has some stories left to tell!" he joked, his eyes twinkling.

"I wonder how in the world she got Sally's nylons?"

"Well with her spotty memory, that may remain forever a mystery," he said, bursting into more laughter.

**Joe's POV**

Unhooking the nylons from the garter belt, my fingers fumbled in their efforts. I felt like a nervous bridegroom on his wedding night! Or what I assumed one would be like since—

Shit!

I _was _married.

I _had_ been a bridegroom, and I'd nearly had a fucking wedding night!

Guilt plowed through me like a greedily moving buzz saw, ready to cut me in half.

The nylon I was working on fell to the floor around Steph's ankle. I looked up at her, and she was smiling in eager anticipation. She took full advantage of my speechless self-reproach to run her fingers through my hair. Rising to my feet, I met her eyes. They were warm pools of glistening blue, filled with excited expectation.

I didn't deserve it.

"Steph we have to talk."

A sharp pain invaded my heart as I realized the ramifications of my actions. She was going to be devastated. I'd never so much as thought about cheating on her when we were together—EVER!

"What now? Why? The pants are off. I swear I didn't do ANYTHING with Ranger." She seemed sorely disappointed that I'd stopped.

"I believe you, Cupcake. It's not you—it's me."

Realizing what a hypocrite I was soon going to be in her eyes after my confession, I felt the urge to lie. But I wouldn't do that to her. I was surprised when I'd accused her of that alleged illicit night with Ranger; she hadn't whipped right back at me about Kate. I'd half expected her to. Maybe she had chosen not to believe Kate. If so, that made her a better man than me.

I looked down at the floor for a few seconds then directly into the already disillusioned blue eyes I loved so much.

"Oh m—my God! Kate _wasn't_ lying."

"Steph." I shook my head, trying to show her that it had meant nothing, and it wasn't what she was thinking.

"You _didn't?_" She backed away, holding her hands protectively over her lacy bra.

"No, I didn't! _That_ didn't happen! I swear!"

"But something did." She said it with certainty, still making sure there was LOTS of expanse between us.

"Yes, I need to explain it."

"Really? You were so sure I'd cheated on you. I didn't get the chance to explain anything before you went off all self-righteous and defensive! Why the hell should I give you any consideration now?" Her eyes were glassy and her cheeks were beet red.

"_Because I love you_."

She laughed sarcastically. "If anything happened with that two bit hussy wife of yours, who put that ring on your finger in the name of protecting ME, I don't want to fucking hear it!"

She grabbed a blanket folded at the foot of the couch and draped it around to cover her bare glistening skin.

"You're not going to let me tell you—"

"NO—I want a cab to take me home now!" She looked at me as though I was a stranger.

"I don't have a usable phone."

"I HATE YOU!" She moved quickly to the duffle bag and began throwing clothing out of it all over the place until she found a black t-shirt. She threw the blanket off her shoulders to the floor and quickly scurried into it, grabbing sweat bottoms and covering her legs as well.

I knew she was getting ready to run having had years of experience knowing when that was coming.

She gave me a furious glare. "_How could you Joe?"_

**Joe's POV**

"I was drunk and thought it was you!" I didn't know if it would be enough to hold her there, but I had to try.

"You were drunk? When? I spoke to you on the phone that night, you sounded fine!"

"Please just sit down for a minute and let me explain this. I'm begging you, I need you to know everything and then if you're still upset, we'll deal with it."

"If?" She wasn't giving me an inch.

"I know all too well what it feels like to find out you've been cheated on!" I couldn't have stopped the words if I'd wanted to because, damn it, I'd forgiven her for everything! She had to have at least that much love for me to understand I'd slipped. Granted—badly. But I regretted it—deeply.

"I should've known you'd waste NO time throwing Ranger back in my face!"

"Well the truth hurts, doesn't it?" I swiped back.

"This is pointless. Whatever you say, we're going to have a humdinger of a fight!" she warned me.

"I have no doubt of that. But I want the chance to at least have one! If you go running off again, where does that leave us? We can't see one another again. We may NEVER see each other! Steph, this is _it_. It's our last chance to—"

"Okay, I'll stay." She said it so quietly I almost didn't hear it.

"Thank you." I meant it with all my heart.

I motioned for her to take a chair. She sat down staring beyond me at something—God only knows what. Or maybe she was envisioning horns on my head or a pitchfork in my hand.

I forced myself to sit, wanting more than anything to pace. Maybe she wouldn't be able to hit a moving target so easily.

"It started the night before my trip to Atlantic City with Kate."

She bristled noticeably, at the mention of my wife's name. Who could blame her? Kate had that effect on people, until you really got to know her.

"You and Kate did something before you even left?" She stood up ready to pound me to the ground no doubt.

"NO!" I shot back. "YOU and Ranger did!"

Her eyes seemed momentarily confused. Then as she sat back down, she looked at me, "I didn't—"

"You didn't tell me. Why is that? _You kissed him_!" I finally was able to let her know how much that kiss had thrown me for a loop.

"H—how?"

"I was there."

"You were watching me? Why?" Her eyes filled with more mistrust.

"I was looking for you. I wanted to spend some time with you before I had to do—I needed to see you."

"You never said anything. Where were you?" she asked.

"I was in the shadows by the garage. You'd just come out the back door, and I was so fucking happy to see you. I wanted to hold you and tell you how much I'd wished I were eloping with you. Then out of the blue, just as I'd been about to reveal I was there, Ranger showed up!"

"Why didn't you just tell me this before? You saw him give me the watch and—"

"And I saw him kissing you."

"He was giving me a farewell gift. I told you."

"Sure you did—later—after the wedding. I didn't know what the hell was going on. I was tortured by it all the rest of that night. The next day, while driving to Atlantic City, all I could do was wonder what the fuck Ranger had been doing there? What gift had he given you? It looked like a diamond bracelet, and why in the hell had you kissed him?"

"He kissed me, Joe!"

"You let him, Stephanie!"

"I felt sorry for what I'd done to him! I'd hurt him. I'd hurt you. It was GOODBYE! I swear to you. It was!"

"I didn't know that then."

She pushed back her half dried hair. "Okay, so what happened? How did you end up drunk?"

"I had a lot of whiskey to calm myself before the ceremony. I exercised, had a massage and a crappy haircut, and then I drank a good deal more before going downstairs for the ceremony."

"You never drink that much?" she questioned my behavior.

"I've never married a woman I wasn't in love with or been torn to pieces about the woman I _was_ in love with. You should've been the one standing with me making those vows!"

"It was a horrible day. I'd never thought you'd marry anyone but me," she admitted, her eyes pools of sadness.

"Me either. I swear."

I got a tiny quarter smile. "Go on."

After the vows, there was champagne, and I downed it like a blindfolded man facing a firing squad. Getting through that ceremony, reciting promises to a woman I didn't love, putting a ring on her finger and having to pretend to be happy when I'd never been so fucking miserable in my life! I thought you were still torn between Manoso and me. I had no clue what the hell was happening! I couldn't make sense of it, and I could hardly think rationally. I kept drinking, so I wouldn't have to anymore."

"Okay, so you got married and drunk, then what?" At least she wasn't throwing things at me—yet.

"I went up to the room with Kate. Actually the photographer came with us, and I had him take a picture of me carrying her over the threshold as he requested. I dumped her on floor the minute the door closed. I felt dizzy and disoriented. The room was decked out with a feast of food, including wedding cake. She tried to get me to eat, but everything was spinning around me. My head was throbbing to beat the band. I couldn't handle food."

"So then what happened?" Her eyes darkened as she prepared herself for the worst.

"I kept thinking that if it was _our_ wedding night, how we'd have been so into one another that the food, except for maybe the cake, would've been left until much, much later."

I looked directly into her eyes, wanting her to see how profoundly that had affected me.

Her eyes softened a smidgeon.

"I almost tripped and fell over my own feet. I loosened the tie, threw it and my jacket on a chair and crashed to the bed. I felt like I had a jackhammer going off in my head by then. Mercifully I fell asleep.

I must have stirred a little. I looked over toward the window and saw the outline of a woman in a green gown. I don't remember much else. I must have drifted back to sleep. The next thing I know, I'd been kissed. I remember murmuring your name and telling you how tired I was."

Steph's mouth dropped open. I could see the anger igniting in her eyes.

"I swear to God I thought it was you. She was touching my body and whispering that she wanted me. I felt her kissing me, and I kissed her back. Her nightgown vanished. I touched her bare flesh. She was naked, and she wanted me. I was sure it was you ministering to my body so eagerly. I responded by kissing you back. I realized if you wanted me, I'd have to wake up to enjoy it and make sure you were happy too. I even called her Cupcake at one point."

"I'm going to kill her!" Stephanie said bitterly.

"It wasn't only her," I admitted sadly.

"What does that mean?" she asked, her eyebrows rising like antennas.

"It means at first I had my eyes closed. I kissed her back. I was sure it was you."

"I understand that—"

"No you don't. I opened them expecting to see you. Instead it was Kate. I wanted to look into your eyes, but instead of beautiful blue ones, I saw green ones that weren't yours at all." I felt flush with the memory of my near moment of insanity.

"What did you do, Joe?" she asked, un-fallen, tears moistening her eyes.

"I tried to get up, but she pushed me back and reminded me we could die soon. She said wasn't it okay for us to take that moment to forget everything ahead of us and just escape from it?"

Steph swiped at her eyes. "_Oh my God_."

"I thought about you and Ranger and what I'd seen. I wanted desperately to run away from it. So I kissed her back, fully aware of the fact it wasn't you."

Bowing my head, I looked up again quickly, ready to take the punishment I knew I'd be facing. The betrayal and disillusionment I'd tried so hard to avoid during our entire relationships was facing me dead on.

Her lips quivered as I continued to break her heart.

"I didn't stop at one kiss. The moment I kissed her, I heard my father's wicked laughter. The same cackling I'd heard every time he'd beaten me. My head was throbbing with it, and I found myself wanting to flee from it too. I kissed her again, and then I flipped her over so she was underneath me. I kissed her neck, and then we kissed repeatedly."

"I don't believe this!" Steph murmured wretchedly. She clenched both fists and sat perfectly straight as though she was made out of cardboard. I knew it was her defenses. She didn't want me to see she was crumbling to pieces inside.

"It was terrible of me, I know! I've been beating myself up inside ever since it happened. I wanted to tell you, but NOT on the phone. I knew I had to do it in person, so you'd see how horribly _sorry _I am."

"Did you have sex—" It was almost as if she'd detached herself from me already. My heart was beating triple time.

"NO! I stopped it! She said something that brought back the fact you loved me front and center I shot off the bed as though a freaking, cannon had fired me into the air! I swear to you on all that is holy between us, NOTHING more happened. And nothing has since that night!"

I got up and knelt next to her, taking her hands in mine. They were clammy and trembling.

"I LOVE YOU! I have always, always loved you. I don't love her. I don't _want_ her. _I want one woman in my world and that woman has been and will always be—YOU!"_

"It doesn't make it hurt any less," she said chokingly.

"I know." I kissed her fingers. "Please, forgive me, Stephanie," I begged with everything in me. I wanted her to see I'd been out of my mind with jealously and feeling extremely lost and exhausted.

"I need some time." She pulled away her hands. I stood up stepping back to give her the space I sensed she needed.

"Say something."

She leaned against the wall opposite from me and folded her arms protectively in front of her. It took her a while to gather her thoughts.

"I think you and I have some really deep issues to work through. I'm not sure we're as ready for a lasting relationship as we'd thought." Tears fell down her cheeks. "We always do this. I mean we love one another, but we don't ever seem to be able to keep ourselves from hurting each other. I kiss Ranger. You kiss Kate! What does this say about our faithfulness to one another and our future together?"

"I don't know." I couldn't disagree.

"I mean what's the chance of a lasting commitment with nothing but fear and doubts because of our past transgressions? I don't know! I'm not sure about _us _anymore."

"Don't say that!"

"You nearly made love to her. If she hadn't said whatever it was that snapped you back, what would've happened?" My God!"

"Do you want to know what she said that brought me back?"

**Steph's POV**

"Does it matter?"

"To me it does."

"What?" I relented.

She said I meant everything to her. In that moment, I heard your voice telling me that same phrase so sweetly when you were in the hospital. Right then I knew I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life. You loved me! I had to have misinterpreted whatever happened with you and Ranger. I got up instantly, grabbed my coat, went to the roof and called you. I had forgotten about the phone I'd sent you until then."

"Why didn't you tell me before this?"

"Because over a phone, I knew I wouldn't have a chance in hell of not losing you. I still don't know if I do or not?"

"I don't either. And I know after Ranger and what I did, that makes me the biggest hypocrite on earth! But thinking of you so close with _her, _I don't' know if I can be as good as you were. How did you do it Joe? How did you forgive me for betraying you with Ranger? Or have you? Is that why you can't ever believe I wouldn't do that to you again?"

"I have forgiven it. Expecting me to _forget_ it though—to never think of it when you're in his arms every other week? How do I do that, Steph?"

"I shouldn't have expected you to," she admitted, finally comprehending what it'd felt like for me.

"I would, you know. I would forgive you and try to forget ANYTHING to be with you. That's how in love with you I am."

She nodded teary again. "I'm trying. I didn't want to believe Kate when she alluded to me that something had happened between you."

"I wish with all my heart it hadn't."

"Are you still attracted to her? I mean you were before," she wondered, her eyes filled with doubt.

"I'm NOT! I don't want her. I want YOU—only you—always you!"

"I need time. This isn't something I can process in one night."

"Okay. But I have to remind you, time isn't something we have a lot of right now."

**Joe's POV**

"I know. Believe me I know!" She was barely holding it together.

I knew what it felt like. You just wanted to crawl into a hole and lick the wounds already oozing with pain. I'd never wanted to cause her that kind of pain, even after all the shit that went on with Ranger. And yet, I'd done it anyway. I felt like I was losing a part of myself.

It was getting late, and I was out of persuasive words to say. She had to have time. I needed to be patient. We were both chilled to the bone by the emotional fallout and the rain. We needed warm showers and maybe something to eat.

"I think we should table it for tonight. Why don't you use the shower first? I'll make us something to eat and then I'll shower."

"I'm not hungry." Her voice was raspy with emotion. "I think if I ate, I'd throw up."

"Okay how about some milk or water?"

"I'll just go take that shower."

I knew she wanted a place where she could cry without having me around to see it. Seeing me now was just rubbing salt in the wound. I knew exactly what she was feeling. I watched her grab the clean clothing off the couch and make her way quickly toward the bathroom. The door shut, and I heard the lock click into place.

That couldn't have gone much worse. I blew out the frustration I felt. Pulling a Ranger, I went to the bathroom door to listen. I could hear the sobbing clearly. _Oh God! Shit!_

I wanted to kick open the door and go to her—to hold her and tell her over and over what a fucking jerk I'd been. But I knew she'd hate me more for taking away her privacy to grieve or scream or whatever it was that she was feeling.

Racking my brain for something I could do to show her how deeply I wanted to make this up to her, I knew from my own experience she did need time. Unfortunately, that was a precious and rare commodity for us.

Despite her queasiness, I wanted to make her something in case she changed her mind after showering. We'd been so close to making love, but I couldn't let it happen without full disclosure between us. I owed her that. I wanted nothing but honesty in our relationship. So I did what had to be done, and I'd have to live with the consequences of my actions. I'd always known cheating on Steph would be the ONLY thing that would end us forever.

My stomach wasn't in any shape for food either, but not having any idea what else to do, I headed for the kitchen. I fixed us some sandwiches and brought out a plate of cookies and two milks. _Please God give her enough insight to know I'd never do anything again to betray her love. Give me a chance to be to her what I'd always wished I could be. I want to be her husband._

Looking down at the ring on my finger, I knew she hated seeing it there. I should take it off. But it wasn't like not wearing it would change the fact she was feeling hurt, sad and angry. It wouldn't take what I'd done away. I was married. Legally. Until the divorce papers were signed, that wasn't changing, and until I was through with that fucking mission, I had to stay married. If I took it off, she'd notice. I could just hear her yelling at me, that it did nothing to make up for anything I'd done. It was inexcusable.

She came out of the shower, her hair wrapped in a towel, wearing the soft sweats I'd tried to give her earlier. I wanted to wrap my arms around her, but she was looking at me as if I was a not to be trusted stranger.

**Steph's POV**

I wished Joe would put a damned shirt on. He was so damned sexy and absolutely beautiful to me. In the midst of all my crying, I'd realized how much I still loved him. He loved me too. I knew it. But I couldn't get the awful picture of him holding Kate naked in his arms out of my head.

"I made some sandwiches. There are chips, cookies and milk." He stood back as if he was afraid to get in my way.

"That was nice of you."

"Please sit down. Can we at least try to talk? I know you need time."

"I can't, Joe. Please don't ask me—NOT tonight!"

"Okay. I'm going to go take that shower. You eat something, please."

"I'll try."

"Good." His voice was so low I could barely hear it. I knew he was suffering, and I knew I had no right to be two faced about anything. But I needed to think it all through and figure out if we could be what we needed to be, for each other. I also wanted to know what was making us both behave exactly the opposite of two people who were madly in love.

I watched him leave and wanted to run after him so badly. Hearing the shower, I wished I could join him in there and forget everything else.

_Could I do it?_ Was it possible to just LOVE him and stop all the madness I'd been causing and going through for far too long?

I took a couple of steps.

_You love him. _

_You want him. _

_He wants you. _

_He forgave you. Now it's your turn to_ _make good on it and forgive him right back_.

My hand was on the door. "Just do it," I whispered to myself.

But the flash of Kate and Joe together, touching and kissing was so hard to let go of. My hand dropped. Cheating was cheating. We'd renewed the trust we'd had. We'd made a commitment to one another. I looked at the sapphire ring dangling from its chain around my neck. He'd broken our trust. I stepped back, feeling as though my world might just have ended.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Not my characters. No Profit.

Carol, I can't think of better or new words to tell you what a wonderful help you are to me, each and every chapter. I rely so much on your perfect instincts and direction. I feel blessed and lucky to have you beta for me! Thanks is _never _enough and you are making this so much easier than it ever would have been, my dear friend. You're amazing!

Congratulations Kimmy and Nathan! Hope you are having a wonderful honeymoon and enjoying married life!

I wasn't expecting to create such a stir last chapter. I really value all your feelings and opinions and I take them to heart. The in depth reviews and constant support is so appreciated. I can't thank you enough.

This is just a side note to let you all know that I am very aware and understanding of how you feel about our favorite couple. I realize since you have to wait sometimes over a week to turn the page it can get frustrating to see what in the heck I'm trying to do. I felt they had some issues to get through last chapter, like they always do. My goal for this story was to see them mature and grow gradually together as a couple, to the point where they could be in a successful, happy, lasting relationship. It takes a little time to make it happen. I promise you, I do have their best interests at heart.

**Joe's POV**

While in the shower I realized there was a very real possibility Stephanie would be long gone once I got out. She'd left over a LOT less than what had just transpired between us. Next to breaking up with her, confessing about Kate was the hardest thing I'd ever done. I felt so fucking stupid for having let myself drink too much and for losing what little control I'd had over the entire situation.

Looking at the gold ring on my finger as water spattered over it and ricocheted back off my other fingers, I realized something really strange about myself. I was an old-fashioned guy when it came to marriage. If Stephanie had placed the wedding ring on my finger, I'd have honored my vows until my dying day. Being Italian and Catholic was a never-ending, double dose of high moral expectations and irrational guilt.

I was legally married.

I'd be sinning against my vows to Kate if I indulged in my deepest desires with Stephanie. 'Thou Shalt not Commit Adultery', the Seventh Commandment, had been drilled into me since I was a little boy. All of the commandments, sacredly decreed by the Pope to be God's law, had been memorized along with every other kid I knew. Adults burned them into your sub-conscience hoping you'd break them less easily. I'd broken more than my share of them, but I couldn't shrug off the culpability of this one.

Intellectually, I knew it was a marriage in name only, but morally it felt wrong to even consider making love to Stephanie while married to another woman. If I took this marriage less than seriously, what would she think about my continued fidelity to her when _we_ finally married?

That is if we ever married. I wasn't sure she was even actually going to talk to me ever again.

After my confession who could blame her? I wouldn't be surprised if she doubted me for a long time to come. However, if I stuck to my moral compass, at least she'd know how seriously I would be taking _our_ vows.

Silently I prayed for God to give me another chance to make things right. If He did, then I'd marry Stephanie once this assignment was done—just as soon as I could get a divorce or annulment. I wasn't sure how it worked if someone other than a Catholic priest married you. Would an annulment be easier to get than it would be from the Church. I'd heard horror stories of how people had to wait for years to get special dispensation from the Pope. Remaining celibate indefinitely with Steph would definitely drive me nuts—as in white-jacket, padded-cell crazy.

I hated that the first woman I'd legally married hadn't been the _only one_ I'd always dreamed of marrying. How would I ever make it up to Steph? I hoped she knew in her heart that _our_ marriage would be the ONLY one that counted. I wanted her to be certain of marrying me, so that she'd never have to think twice about her decision. Of course now she was probably second-guessing why she'd ever loved me at all.

This latest skirmish of ours needed to be the final moment of doubt in OUR commitment to one another.

I wasn't proud of the fact that a part of me was feeling as though she was being pretty unfair. I'd been there for her all throughout her affair with Ranger. I'd known everything that was going on between them and had still taken her back every time. I'd broken up with her and reconciled, completely forgiving all her transgressions. It had been the right thing to do, although it sure as hell hadn't been easy. Would she be able to at least try to see my side of things for once? What if she couldn't? Would I walk away, feeling as though she'd never loved me enough to be as understanding toward me as I'd been regarding her?

If she _would_ forgive me, I planned to make her my wife. I couldn't make a proposal while still being married to Kate, but we could at least talk about our future. We could decide once and for all what we both wanted from the other and plan that it would happen—soon! I was done with the teenager mentality of our relationship. I had a pretty good indication she was too. The fact that she'd finally been sure about us, and now, thanks to me, doubted us once again—sucked.

Stepping out of the shower, I made a perfunctory stab at drying off, and then hastily got dressed. I didn't know what I'd do if she was gone.

Barefoot and still damp under my clothing, I headed straight for the living room.

I peaked around the doorway, holding my breath.

Holy shit!

_She was there. _

Thank God!

I blew out the air I'd been holding. Closing my eyes, I reopened them again, just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating because of my deep desire to find her there.

**Steph's POV**

"Don't pass out, Morelli, I'm still here," I joked, feeling far from cheerful.

I'd done a lot of thinking in the last twenty minutes while he'd been showering. Predictably, it had resulted in a whole lot of looking at myself in the mirror. Finding a pretty ugly reflection, I'd been forced to take responsibility for my part in everything that had transpired between Joe and me.

"It's a miracle," he said, his voice unusually quiet.

"I'm trying to grow up." I shrugged, feeling sort of little girlish as I did that. It was a long road to maturity.

"I've noticed."

"Have you? Really? Because I've been trying so hard."

"Absolutely," he assured me.

"I slipped up a bit over the candy bar debacle."

"It's okay, Steph. Don't keep punishing yourself over it."

He'd always been the adult in our relationship. Now it was my turn.

"We're all entitled to a mess up every so often," I agreed. "So why don't you take your own advice, Morelli. Stop punishing _yourself_. Neither of us is infallible. We're perfectly imperfect. And I know you understand that better than anybody—thanks to me."

Joe's eyes lightened considerably at my words. "What are you saying, Stephanie?"

He sat down across from me on the edge of an armchair. I'd been sitting on the sofa, holding a pillow for comfort, while giving careful thought to my life, the way I'd handled it and my endless love for him. I put the pillow aside and standing, made my way over to his chair. Kneeling beside him, I reached out to cup his bristly jaw gently in my palm. My other hand stroked his unruly, damp curls.

He looked at me as though it was the last gesture he'd ever expected.

I smiled and spoke softly, "I'm saying that if you can forgive me for _everything _I did to you over and over again, then I'm in no position to judge you. Marrying Kate was one of the _worst _days of your life. You'd already been going through hell because of your love for me. I _would _be a pretty selfish brat if I didn't get that. I'm sorry that my actions with Ranger caused you MORE pain and doubt. That's the last thing I ever wanted."

He seemed almost afraid to be hopeful. "Cupcake—"

"Shush, I'm on a roll."

When we'd had that last night together right before our huge breakup, he'd said something similar to me. Letting go of the last of my barriers, I let the dam holding my unconditional love and appreciation for his sacrifice burst. I wanted him to feel, as he'd never felt it before, the adoring waves rolling from my heart to his. I let my eyes shine with the hero worship I felt for him as well. He needed to know he was _everything _to me—that he'd _always been_ everything to me.

He placed his hands over mine and brought my fingers to his lips kissing them one by one so tenderly.

Looking deeply into his beautiful coffee-colored eyes, I expressed all the emotions I'd ever held back from him.

"_I love you_! If these last weeks have made me sure of _anything_—it's _us._ I was speaking out of pain and anger before. I'm not saying we don't have things to work out, or that we haven't caused one another a shit-load of heartache. But I know it's because we've never been totally honest about what we feel for each other—_especially_ me. Loving you and being loved by you has been something I've fought off like a wildcat. And yet, all the while I've wanted it desperately my whole life."

"Stephanie, you're everything to me too. You alway_s_ _have_ been. There's no way around it. Believe me, if there were I'd have found it. You're not the only one who ran away. I did too at first. I made light of my feelings for you when I should've made damned sure you felt the zillions of reasons why I've loved you since the very beginning. Running is over. I don't want to—ever again. I love you—my perfectly imperfect _match._ I'll never give you cause to doubt that again."

"I believe you. It's okay. I promise I'm not mad. I'm not even really hurt. You stopped it. And you were dealing with huge issues—because of me—"

"I'll do anything you need me to do to make this up to you."

"No, we move forward from here. _No_ going back. No making up what's done. You haven't demanded that of me, and I'm _not_ demanding it of you."

"I'm offering."

"You don't _owe_ me anything. Your heart is so generous, Joe. You took me back after _everything_ I did. It wasn't one small slip up—It was much _more_—" My eyes were filling because the heartache I'd brought to Joe was so far beyond any pain he'd ever caused me. It was nearly unfathomable. "I did things to you for years that were so unloving and selfish and inconsiderate—"

"I thought we were moving forward," he reminded me gently.

"We are—I promise. But for me to move forward from this," I motioned between us, "I have to take a good look back. You were faithful to me when you had _absolutely_ no reason to be. I couldn't have been more stupid if I'd tried. My God, there wasn't one day through my entire lunacy with Ranger you weren't there for me in every way a faithful man could be. I was so afraid of everything about a commitment to you that I ran away from the love you offered me constantly. Do you know what a _miracle_ it is to me that _YOU'RE_ still here?" My eyes filled with gratitude.

"This is the only place I've ever wanted to be."

"I'm so damned lucky. I know it now. And if you think one drunken bout of temporary insanity is going to get you off the hook from me, Morelli—well think again! You're mine—forever."

"Is that so?" His eyes were glowing with so much love I thought my heart might explode.

"Yeah, that's so."

"I love you so damned much, Cupcake. You don't know how much I regre—"

I put my finger to his lips to shut him up. "_No more regrets_. We only have so much time. We can't afford to waste _one _second of it."

"Agreed."

Feeling the need to delve deeper into a few details regarding things he'd confided in me earlier, I caressed his cheek. Standing, I pulled him up out of his chair and led him to the sofa where we could sit closely together.

"I need you to answer some questions."

**Joe's POV**

She loved me enough!

We'd just turned a huge corner in our relationship. The old Steph would have turned her back on me and walked away without so much as a second thought. This new, beautifully grown up Stephanie was forgiving me. In fact, she was saying I had nothing to be sorry for. I was so proud of her, especially knowing how guarded and afraid she'd been in the past. Now I felt an assurance that we indeed had a future—together—forever.

"Anything you want to know," I promised.

Her eyes met mine in concern. "I want you to tell me the truth about your childhood and your father. You said he came into your head and taunted you that night in Atlantic City. You never talk about him very much. Was he _ever_ good to you?"

I'd been thinking she was going to ask me all about Kate and for more information about what had happened between us. Instead she wanted to know about my childhood or, more accurately, my "rude awakening". I had to stop and think for a minute because thoughts of my youth with my father were mental images I'd rarely allowed to infiltrate my head as an adult.

"I know it's hard, but I'd really like to know what it was like for you with him?"

After a lengthy pause, I said, "I remember he liked family dinners."

"Really?"

"Yeah. One year we didn't have enough money for a turkey, so he made our meatloaf into a turkey sculpture. Being the youngest, I thought it was pretty cool. Back then I didn't know enough to resent him for having spent all the money for our dinner on his booze."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It was what it was."

"What was he like when he wasn't three sheets to the wind?"

"When he wasn't drinking, which was hardly ever, he had an almost jovial personality."

"You're kidding," she challenged, almost disbelievingly.

I nodded affirmatively. "He was almost too animated at times, like he was acting, but at least when he wasn't drunk he was tolerable. Believe me, those glimpses of him were rare."

"That must have been horrible."

"The worst times were in that garage of ours. He was a total bastard in there."

I felt my mind going back but a part of me could never make it there—not all the way. It was way too difficult to face remembering it with total clarity. Whenever I did, anger and pain permeated my being.

"You do know that you never deserved one moment of that, don't you?" Her voice was protectively angry.

"It took me a lot of years to come to grips with it. You know how it is. A boy just wants his dad to be proud of him."

"He never said that to you, did he?"

"God no!"

"If he hadn't had his drinking problem, maybe he would have been able to see it and say it."

"You know, I think what I hated most was that he was so goddamned weak! He never even tried to change or get help. He didn't have the desire to be good to himself or his family."

"I heard through the grapevine that Bella's husband—his father—was like him."

I nodded. "I never knew him. He died long before I was born, but I've heard he was worse."

"That's sad. I can't even _imagine _how you dealt with it." She took my hand and kissed the top of it.

"You get used to it. I'd see other dads with their sons, playing baseball or shooting hoops or cheering their boys on during a school game, and it sort of stung." I shook my head, surprised to feel moisture depositing in the corner of my eyes. "Hell, that's not true—it hurt a lot. I always wondered why he didn't love us enough to do the things with his kids the way other dads did so automatically."

"Did you ever have the chance to ask him?"

"No. We didn't talk like that. He'd grunt his hello at night, and it wasn't long after the booze came out, or he went out to find it. There wasn't ever time to talk to him about anything."

"Why did his voice come into play that night in Atlantic City?"

"Truthfully, I'd been struggling with the whole Morelli Curse thing again. I guess having everyone I know be so easily convinced I'd take a turn to the dark side like _he _had, affected me more than I'd realized. To be perceived as completely the opposite of what I'd tried to be my whole adult life was—"

"You're NOT him, and you will _never_ be him. You are so much better. Joe, you're the exact opposite of _him."_ She looked at me as though I were her knight in shining armor. "You're just doing a job—nothing more."

"I know, but it's hit a little too close to home. I thought I knew who I was. I really did, until this whole thing started. Now I have doubts again. And if anything has brought those on, it's my behavior that night with Kate."

She leaned toward me, kissing me so tenderly that it banished the guilt instantly. I needed her so damned much!

"It's okay. I promise I'm telling you the truth when I say I understand."

"I really hated Kate for what she tried to pull."

"No kidding. Me too," she said, commiserating with me.

"But I don't anymore. I understand why it happened," I told her sincerely, knowing we were about to plow through a few more unpleasant moments.

**Steph's POV**

"Excuse me? I couldn't have heard you correctly."

"You did. It took me awhile, but if you knew her whole story—"

"Why in the hell would I want to know it? How do _you_ know it?"

"We talked a couple of times.

"Where?"

"In that big, mausoleum of a house. Remember—we lived there together for a few weeks. It's a little hard to avoid someone you're living with for weeks on end.

"I was hoping you'd give it your best shot!"

"Stephanie, I did. Okay? NOTHING else happened. I needed to figure out what the hell made her do it in the first place! You know me. I'm a cop. There was a big question mark, and I needed an answer to it."

"So you cross examined her?"

"I'm a cop, not a lawyer."

"You interrogated her?"

"We _talked!"_

"I can't believe after what she did to you—to us—that you'd give her the friggin time of day let alone have a fucking conversation with her!"

"I did, and I'm _glad_ I did."

He must have had a death wish, because in zero to five, Morelli had gone from forgiven hero to foolish idiot. _How in the hell could he be defending her?_

"There's absolutely nothing you can say to me to excuse that bitch's behavior!"

"Yes, there is!"

"Like what?"

"She was in love with Ranger when he left her without a note, a word or an explanation of any kind."

"She had to have known going in what Ranger required of the relationship."

"You would know!" he sniped.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means what it sounds like. She was in _love_. Sound familiar, Stephanie?"

"I was never in love with Ranger—not like that."

"Kate was. She wanted him to marry her and give her babies!"

"Well she's a fool, because that's not Ranger."

"She thought he had dumped her for you."

"He didn't!"

"How the hell do you know that?"

"He told me."

"Oh, so you couldn't just leave it alone. You _had_ to know."

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I want to know?"

"Maybe, because Ranger and his life are no longer your concern!"

"Jealous?"

"Insanely."

"Me too—over the idea of you talking to her after everything she did!" I gave him my most future-wifely glare.

"She lost a baby too, Steph. She had a crappy, horrible marriage with a cheating jackass. He knocked her into a glass table. Her baby was born too early and died a couple days afterward."

"That's sad."

"And that's not all. She was almost raped in high school. She met someone in college, got engaged and he dumped her for someone else. Only months later he married the other girl.

"Okay, so those were tough breaks," I admitted between gritted teeth.

Then in law school she was engaged, and the guy drowned in a lake two days before the wedding about ten miles from her house. They never knew what happened. Am I making any sense here?" He seemed pretty irritated he had to defend his position at all.

"How can that much bad stuff happen to one woman?" I questioned, trying to keep my heart hardened.

"Exactly my point!"

"I still _hate_ her."

"Steph," he sounded almost disappointed.

"I can't help it," I shot back exasperatedly. "She was after you like a cat in heat. Now you're defending her!"

"I'm NOT. I promise you. I just think we need to be a little more understanding."

I dropped his hand coldly.

"I can suck it up for you, because I love you with _everything_ I am. But DON'T you dare expect me to pardon her and give her a get-out-of-the-vat-of-boiling-oil-free card."

"Vat of boiling oil?" His eyebrows shot up. "Whoa there, Cupcake. Where did that put me when I was in the doghouse?"

"You? I put you in a safe house where I could have my way with you morning, noon and night. I tortured you with non-stop, make-up-for-too-freaking-long-since-we-had-it sex.

"Hmmm, I like the sound of that—but we can't do it." He put a hand up warningly. His eyes were totally apologetic.

"What do you mean we _can't_? Is there something wrong with your equipment? Did you get hurt worse at Pino's than I knew?"

"The _equipment_, as you so eloquently put it, is fine." He looked down at his bare feet. "I'm married, remember?"

"It's NOT likely I've forgotten, thanks to your bringing up that insane bitch wife of yours every stinkin' chance you get."

"Are you ever going to cut her some slack?"

"I don't know."

"Cupcake."

_I hated it when he used that persuasive tone with me. _

"I'll think about it."

**Joe's POV**

"Well I guess it's a start. Does this mean we can be friends again?"

"I'm working on it. Define friends. Do you and I finally get naked?" she asked hopefully.

"No." I looked at her almost embarrassedly. "I figured out something while I was in the shower. It's something I hadn't realized. You're probably going to be as surprised as I was."

"Go on. This had better be good."

"I'm kind of old-fashioned sometimes."

"You? Really" she drawled dramatically, rolling her eyes. "I hadn't noticed."

"Yeah _me_, smarty pants_._ I was raised an Italian Catholic altar boy. How can I betray my wedding vows and sleep at night?"

"Easy—have hot, passionate and sweaty sex with me over and over again, and you'll fall into a dead sleep. I guarantee it!"

Stephanie, you know I can't. You can't either.

"Thanks for telling me I have to have a conscience."

"You do, don't you?"

"Well—maybe I came to _some_ of the same conclusions."

"You did?"

"Uh-huh. During that shower of yours, I had another realization."

"About that shower—I was in there less than twenty minutes. You can't pick a dessert that fast! How the hell did you get all that thinking in so quickly?"

"I like to call it Accelerated Thinking."

He snorted. "Never heard of it."

"It's my own new thing. It has to do with the fact I found myself unexpectedly in the same place with the hottest man in Trenton—maybe even all of New Jersey."

"Only New Jersey?"

"You win. It's been long enough that I agree—in the whole world. I realized if I didn't want to be an idiot and waste time, I'd better figure out where we stood pretty damn fast. After being separated for what has felt like forever, I want nothing more than to be with you, Joe."

"I'm liking your new way of thinking, but I bet it hasn't helped you to choose desserts any faster."

"That's true. Dessert can never be rushed." I joked, and then my tone turned serious again. "I realized something else too."

"Are you going to tell me what it was?" I asked totally enthralled by this new woman I was encountering.

"I am. I figured there've been so many rips in my moral fiber during the last four years that I really didn't think my conscience could take another hit. The idea of becoming your mistress and the 'other woman' is not something I'd be comfortable with at all."

"You mean we're on the same page?"

She blew out the deepest sigh I've ever heard. "God help me, yes."

"That's good, right?"

"No, it sucks!" she snapped.

"Tell me about it."

We shared a third, mind-melding moment of simultaneously thinking out loud.

"This is going to be absolute torture!"

**Ranger's POV**

Meg had been so excited when she heard Stephanie had made it safe and sound to Morelli. She'd reminded me of a freckle faced five-year old, clapping her hands and nearly mowing me down with that jubilant hug of hers. I looked over at her sitting across the room. I wasn't sure why she hadn't left yet, but I knew I wanted her to stay. I wasn't about to upset the balance by saying anything that would send her scurrying away like the last few times we'd made contact.

Feeling her soft, warm curvaceous body against mine when I'd hugged her back had been a little too much of a blast from the past. I wasn't doing well with my resolve to ban that redheaded temptress from my life.

She interrupted my thoughts as though she'd been reading my mind.

"We did a good thing, Ranger." She smiled at me—her co-conspirator

"Time will tell."

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't been around those two for years like I have. They can find reasons to fight about things you and I would never dream of."

"Like what?"

"I don't know. I'm just guessing here, but things like 'who has to walk the dog more'."

"Seriously?"

"Oh yeah."

"What else?"

"Well, she blew up cars a lot. In fact, I think she stole his once, and _it_ blew up. You do know he was her first FTA, and she actually caught him. He was pretty pissed about that. It was a while before they became a couple.

Meg laughed. "I read about that in his file."

"I bet he's not thrilled she took his motorcycle either. Believe me, it's enough to give you a migraine if you dare to give those two serious thought."

"They have big issues, don't they," Meg grinned.

"It's all because Stephanie is so afraid of committing. She makes up reasons to run. For a long time, I didn't mind, as long as she ran to me."

_What the hell was I doing confessing that to Meghan?_

She shifted uncomfortably in her chair. I picked up the open wine bottle. Walking over to her side, she raised her glass and allowed me to top it off. We'd decided to open a bottle right after we'd received the news that Stephanie and Morelli had made contact.

"You're still in love with her." She said it so softly, I couldn't be sure she wanted me to hear it.

"I'm fine with it. I'm not pining over her if that's what you mean."

She laughed lightly. "You pining over _anyone_ is hard to imagine."

"Is it?" My mouth tilted at the corners. "You're probably right."

Her eyes shuttered in sadness. I realized too late she'd been talking about herself.

_Stupid, stupid idiot! You couldn't just keep your big mouth shut!_ I hadn't wanted to see her hurt. I hated that I'd brought her even a speck of that sadness. She'd already had her share. I remembered a night shortly after we'd become lovers. She'd confessed what a complete mess her marriage had been and then cried softly as she spoke of her lost baby. I should've run that night. I knew I'd never be the right man for her. I wasn't going to be the one to give her another chance to have that baby she'd wanted so desperately. Why hadn't I made tracks and disappeared right then and there?

_Why was I asking myself that? Damn, the woman brought out more deep emotions in me than I'd had in my entire life_!

I heard her sigh as though resigned to her fate.

"I never meant to hurt you, Meghan. I know now that I did."

She looked up at me and took a gulp of wine. "It was all my expectations of you. You never promised me anything. I knew that going in."

"Yes, but it doesn't change the fact we spent a lot of time together, and I owed you some explanation."

Her eyes flickered in disbelief. "What did you just say?"

"Don't make me repeat it."

"You don't get away with that lazy excuse."

"Fine. I enjoyed your company, and just leaving the re-la—la—tio—"

"Relationship," she supplied while I was still busy stuttering.

"Yeah that." I nodded, looking away.

"You can't even say it."

She shook her head, getting up from her chair and setting her glass down. "It wasn't totally a bad thing was it?"

I turned to look at her. My eyes softened, even as I was ordering my heart not to.

"No," I admitted, my mouth turning up slightly.

"I think I'm going to need smelling salts or maybe an ambulance," she shot back.

But I could see the pain had subsided a bit in those green jewels that had glowed in passion, laughter, and what I realized now had been deep love for me. My resolutions dissolved every time I looked into those eyes of hers.

_What in the hell was I going to do? Could I really let her walk away from me when this damned thing was over? _

I saw Meghan twisting the two rings on her left hand.

"I suppose it feels funny to be married to a man who is cheating on you as we speak."

"No different than my first marriage," she said sadly.

"He was a jackass."

"Yeah."

"How are you doing with—you know."

She smiled sadly, and then looked like she might burst into tears. "Never easy."

**Meg's POV**

I couldn't really believe I was talking to Ranger about something besides business. He was asking me about the loss of my child. The fact that he'd nearly admitted we'd been in a relationship felt strange. There was almost an unspoken truce between us, formed by our mutual goal of putting the couple that was always meant to be in the same place, at the same time. Tears came as I let my thoughts settle on my lost son. I never seemed to be able to get through even one day without feeling that emptiness in my heart and my arms.

"I'm sorry," he said putting his own glass down.

He embraced me. Tears flowed as if they'd been on pause just waiting to escape. Feeling Rangers chest against my wet cheek felt so damned comforting.

His hand was stroking my back, and I didn't ever want to leave his warm arms.

"Cobre, it's all right. Cry it out. You've been through so much. Sometimes I wish I'd never called you to do this _damned _mission."

Hearing him use his most intimate name for me and then tell me that he wished he hadn't called me, stopped my tears instantly. I pulled away from him, standing back and feeling devastated he didn't want me there.

His eyes filled with surprise at finding his arms empty once again.

"Wait a minute. I didn't mean it the way you took it." He put a hand on my arm. I looked down at it then into his eyes.

"How _did_ you mean it?" I gave him a chance—hoping against hope he would tell me the truth.

"I just meant—you've been in so many dangerous situations already. What did I do, but call you to put your life in the worst danger ever."

"It's what I do."

"I know. I shouldn't have asked you. You keep saying I don't care if anything happens to you. But that's not true."

"It doesn't seem like you do."

"Meg, I don't want _anything_ to happen to you."

His fingers slid down my cheek softly.

"Why?" My voice was a whisper.

"Because."

He pulled me to him, and his lips found mine again as if magnetically drawn. I was so afraid to let the kiss happen and even more terrified not to let it. What if he hurt me again?

I managed to murmur the hundred thousand dollar question. "What are we doing?"

His lips parted from mine, and one finger silenced my words.

"Just go with it," he whispered back.

Our kisses continued; hot, steamy, voracious promises of more to come, until I was nearly ready to surrender into what I knew was inevitable.

His molten dark eyes caught mine, and I felt the fear clawing at me.

"Where are we going Carlos?" I asked hoping he'd say what I needed to hear.

"I'm not sure. I can't make you any promises." Instantly his mouth was a safe distance from mine.

I wanted to cry. _Damn it!_ How had I fallen in love with an emotionally stunted, unable to express his deepest feelings, man?

"I can't do this without promises."

"I'm being honest."

"No, you're being you."

"It's the same thing."

"Hardly—It's the same copout it's always been. You'll never allow the love in—or out!"

He stood quiet and motionless.

"_I'm_ OUT!"

Grabbing my keys, coat and what was left of my dignity, I exited yet another dead end moment in my life.

**Joe's POV**

"Are you ready to go to bed? I asked.

"I-I thought you said—" Stephanie blushed adorably.

"I did, and I meant it. I'll take the couch."

I walked toward the closet to get the extra pillows and blankets I'd discovered while exploring my new temporary home.

"No, I'll take the couch," she offered.

"I am."

"Oh, no you won't, Morelli. You're still recovering from a gunshot wound."

"You're not going to like the couch. I promise you, Cupcake, it's probably the most uncomfortable sleeping contraption you will ever experience."

"That settles it. I saw you grimacing in pain earlier. You think I didn't notice it after I flipped you? It's the least I can do."

"About that flip. You do know it was just a lucky fluke—right?"

"Lucky fluke? I trained for weeks with Eddie. Make no mistake—that was NO lucky _anything_! It was skill and precision."

"Uh, Steph, you aren't planning to tell anyone you got the better of me—are you?"

"No. Of course not! Don't you worry, Hercules Greek God of Strength!"

Laughingly she ribbed me, as she rubbed in her victory, with relish.

"I might mention it to a few of our closest friends. And of course my entire family, including aunts, uncles, cousins and second cousins twice removed, your family, our children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. But that's it. I promise!"

I couldn't help but smile at the thought of future generations of Morelli's.

"I knew I could count on you," I rolled my eyes.

"Of course—anytime." Her eyes glowed with merriment, and I wanted to kiss her so badly. Damn it!

I shook my head, realizing she was definitely going to be a handful—grownup or not.

I wouldn't want her any other way.

"Suppose we take turns. You do the couch tonight. I get it tomorrow."

"I'd so much rather _do_ you," she said wistfully, her eyes still teasing me.

"We don't have a choice—you and me, less than ten feet apart and lying in a bed? My vows would be history by morning, and you'd be wearing a scarlet letter."

**Steph's POV**

"I do look good in red."

"Stephanie!"

"I know, I know. Jeez, give me a break. I feel like I could eat a hundred-foot, chocolate cake covered in icing. That's how damned much I want you right now!" she snarled.

"I _want_ you to too," I confessed on a groan. "God! I wish things were different."

"What are the limits? I mean—in your mind, what is cheating?" I asked him, thinking there had to be some way around this moral high ground we'd both chosen to take.

"Married means ANYTHING is cheating. Probably even talking about OUR future is cheating."

"Screw it. Who needs to be faithful?" I said, stamping a foot. Growing up was highly over-rated.

"I do," he stressed, shaking his head at his newly discovered morality.

"I get the couch. You won't change my mind. You need good rest to get well and to be ready for what's ahead."

"Knowing you're what's ahead of me after it's all over, is what's going to get me through it."

He smiled at me, and I wanted to jump into his arms.

"We kind of already cheated, you know. If it hadn't been for my damned pants—"

"Maybe that was Divine Intervention."

"It was Divine Disappointment!"

"Your bed awaits you, princess," he said, smoothing out the blankets and ignoring my complaints.

"You sure are dealing with this better than I am," I huffed.

"Are you fucking kidding me? I'm headed back to the shower right now. I hope it has a freezing cold setting!"

"Don't I even get a kiss goodnight?"

He bent toward me and planted a tender, sweet kiss on my forehead. I wanted to punch him.

"You're taking faithful way too far!" I growled, punching the pillow I was about to put my head on.

It didn't help to realize it was only ten thirty. Hard to believe only two hours had passed since I'd arrived. I knew we were turning in early to avoid what would happen if we spent any more time twiddling our thumbs when all we wanted was to twiddle one another.

He laughed, and I grinned, as I watched him head to the bathroom. That was the sweetest laughter I'd ever heard.

Two hours later, I was ready to growl all over again.

I'd tried every damned position on that freaking couch there was—sideways, up side down, on my back and on my front. Giving up, I tiptoed to the bedroom and got in on the opposite side of the bed. I was determined to pretend Morelli was just a dead crash test dummy full of stuffing. I'd finally found just the right spot and was drifting off to sleep when the dummy spoke.

"I told you it was a horrible couch."

"Shut up! You're supposed to be full of Polyfill and unable to talk."

"Good to know. I love you, Cupcake."

"Yeah? Well, keep it to yourself!" I grumbled. Feeling the quaking bed, I knew Joe was laughing silently.

_Wait till it was his turn for the couch_. Exhaustion took over, and I soon fell asleep.

I'd just entered a deep sleep when out of nowhere a phone rang. _I thought Morelli had said he didn't have a phone? _I listened groggily, wondering if the sound had been in my dreams.

I hit Joe's sleeping lumpy form to wake him. He'd heard the annoying noise too.

"What the hell is that?"

"I don't know. I thought you said you didn't have a phone?" I grumbled.

"I don't!" He mumbled back, shoving back the covers. We both went sleepily around the unfamiliar place, searching out the incessant ringing.

"There!" Morelli said, making a dive for my duffle bag of clothing.

He wasn't in the mood to hear the damned screeching tone any more than I was. Throwing clothing every which way, he finally dove his hand into every freaking zippered compartment of the bag. There were too many to count. He found yet another hidden zippered into a side flap. Soon he pulled out a familiar looking, untraceable device. Hitting the button, he barked his hello.

"What the hell, Manoso—don't you know some people actually are asleep by this hour? Just because you hang upside down all night wide awake in a cave, staring at God knows what, doesn't mean we do!"

I mouthed, 'what does he want'. Joe turned and put up a finger to let me know to stay quiet.

"What's so important it couldn't wait until morning?"

"Yeah, I remember that day. Don't remind me. How could I ever forget it?"

"Uh huh."

"You did what!"

"Why would you do that?"

"You sure?"

"You're not giving me a load of shit, right?"

"Why the hell didn't you tell me this before?"

"Does she know about this?"

"Well what the fuck. Don't you think she has a right to know too?"

_Listening to Joe's end of the conversation, my curiosity was growing by the second. I couldn't make heads or tails of what the heck he was talking about._

"Do you have any idea what you just caused?"

"You damned well better be telling me the truth."

"You actually listened to me?"

"I can't fucking believe it."

"Yeah, it could come in very handy you idiot! Why the hell didn't you call us earlier?"

"Stop laughing! It's NOT funny, you miserable lunatic!"

"Yeah, same to you!"

"Goodnig—

"The son of a bitch hung up on me!"

Slowly Joe turned toward me. His eyes were warm and inviting; his smile the widest I'd ever seen him wear.

"Joe, what was that about? Why are you smiling like that? What's going on? Did the mission get cancelled?" I asked hopefully.

"Nope—even better," he answered, grinning even more.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

No Profit Not my characters.

Carol Thanks just doesn't cut it. I am going to have to invent a new word! You are so sweet and giving to do this for me. I treasure your friendship daily!

Thanks to all who are reading and reviewing! I am grateful for the candid in depth messages and the support you show me each and every chapter. Hope you enjoy this one.

Steph's POV

"Better? How could anything be better then your damned stint in prison getting cancelled?"

"Okay, so maybe NOT better than _that_, but I promise you, Cupcake, you're going to be _very_ happy."

His smile was so contagious; I couldn't help but grin back. It was like he had this magnificent secret, and I knew by his expression he wanted to share it with me. Unfortunately, he was just taking his sweet time doing it.

"Ranger told you something new that you didn't know?"

"Yes," he answered vaguely.

"What is it? Are you sure it's good? Why aren't you telling me?"

"Oh yeah—it's good. I'm just trying to find the right words to tell you."

He advanced on me, his dark, unruly, bed head looking sexy as hell. His eyes were luminous with promise. In fact, the look in his eyes reminded me of mine whenever dessert was about to be served, only—wait a minute—I had the feeling _I was dessert_. I'd seen that ravenous, hungry look before.

"What are you keeping from me, Morelli?"

He extended his left hand to me as if to show off his irritatingly shiny, gold wedding band. If he thought that was good news, he'd find himself in Upstate New York with my foot as his only means of transportation.

"Will you do the honors?" he requested, still grinning like a silly, lovesick teenager.

"What honors?" I was ready to put on my steel-toed boots. "Why are you showing off that damned ring to me?"

"It's a nice ring."

I gave him my 'you-have-gone-mad-and-are-about-to-get-your-ass-kicked' look.

"Take it off," he suggested huskily, using the same tone he'd used when he first saw my slinky black dress the night I'd chosen him. Well not really _chosen_—more like I-peeked and picked his name from a bowl.

That was the best decision I'd ever made.

"I don't get it. Is this a joke? You think taking the ring off is going to make it okay for us to have sex? What happened to all your high moral ground? Just because you can't keep your vows doesn't mean I'm going to give in to becoming your mistress. I will _not_ be the 'other woman' in your life, Joe!"

"I need you to take this fucking ring off," he pleaded, and then added more softly, "Please trust me."

For some inexplicable reason I did. My fingers made contact with the warm metal. Our eyes never parted as I slid the ring easily off his finger. He took it from the palm of my hand and set it off to the side on an end table.

Cupping my face in both of his hands, he gave me the sweetest, most tender kiss.

He breathed deeply. "Thank you."

I found myself stammering, "I—I—don't even know why I—"

_What the hell was going on?_

"I feel like I've just been freed."

"The ring was just a symbol, Morelli. You still took those vows."

"No—I didn't."

_What? _

"English _please?"_

"I never told you that when Kate and I got to the hotel in Atlantic City, our concierge Juan looked like he was Manoso's younger brother, did I?"

"No you didn't."

My spidey senses combined with my womanly intuition were on high alert.

Joe interrupted his explanation with two more, long, slow, languid kisses—both filled with promises of fiery intoxication.

"So I guess I didn't tell you that when Manoso came up with the insane idea of this marriage with Kate, I sort of blew up at him."

"You hit him."

"Yeah—but how did you know?"

"Ranger called it a bonding moment," I explained.

Joe snorted—just as I'd known he would if he ever heard that explanation.

"I gave him a great right hook first, but of course he punched me back."

"Go on. You should've told me he was the other guy."

"I wanted to fucking kill him!" Joe burst out with heat, in remembrance of that moment. "I figured he _had_ to know the last thing I wanted to do was marry someone that wasn't you."

The sentiment was followed up with a series of deep, smoking hot kisses.

_What the hell was he doing to me? _I was going to lose all my altruistic intentions if he kissed me one more time!

I'm a _one _woman man," he informed me proudly. "To be precise—a _one Cupcake man."_

I smiled then, because that was the old fashioned Joe I knew and loved madly.

Now the kisses were intensely, yet lovingly demanding.

"So what does the concierge who looked like Ranger and your unhappiness over marrying Kate have to do with taking off your wedding ring?" I asked, considerably more breathless than the last time I'd spoken.

"Ranger asked his _cousin Juan _to replace the minister scheduled by Kate for our wedding. He replaced him with a non-ordained, no-authority-to-perform-any-kind-of-ceremony—actor."

"_He did_?"

Joe nodded. "Now I owe Ranger a left hook for deciding that on a 'need to know' basis, _we_ didn't need to know. I'm not sure what the hell changed his mind. But who cares! Stephanie, _I'm NOT married and I never have been._"

My mouth dropped open, and my eyes widened as if a seven-alarm fire bell had gone off.

"_Oh my God_! Does this mean what I'm praying it means?"

His lips were on mine again faster than he could say 'YES'! Yanking off his shirt, he was pulling up mine at the same time. We were ravenous to be together after weeks of loved-starved loneliness. There was no way we'd wait one second longer to consummate our long awaited reunion.

"Thank God! Oh God!"

I gasped for air as deliriously happy goose bumps rose on my skin from his lips tickling my neck—cajoling, teasing, licking and leaving little trails of kisses all the way down to the valley between my breasts.

"Oh I love that—and oh that too. More—yes there. I've been starving for you, Morelli. Right there and there—yes—ahhhhh—Yes—Yes—YES!"

Tracing a kissing path back up my neck and behind my ear, he at last voraciously recaptured my mouth. Our lips parted then rejoined repeatedly—suckling, tangoing tongues explored one another as though we'd just rediscovered some hidden treasure. I wanted to get as close to him as I could. Jumping up, I locked my legs around his hips and torso, nearly clawing his back. I was so turned on by the fact he wasn't off limits to me any longer. He'd never belonged to anyone else. He would _never_ be another woman's husband.

"I love you," he whispered into my ear as he kissed every inch of my face. "You're mine. Oh, God! You're the _one_—the _only_ one,Steph_."_

"Love you—can't live without you!"

Jesus! Stephanie, I've never felt so fucking in love before in my life."

"Love you—want you—need you—" I murmured ecstatically against his chest.

I couldn't hold back the tears that began in my throat and leaked from my eyes. He kissed every single one that fell, murmuring to me how beautiful I was. How much he wanted to make me his forever. The tears were of utter joy. I kissed his temples and his ears and his nose. Nuzzling his neck, I took in his incomparable scent that had always brought me to heaven instantly. Our mouths met again, and he set me down just long enough to rid me of my sweat pants and underwear. With the same goal in mind, I helped him quickly as well. Our clothing went flying, landing on the floor as sorely rejected encumbrances.

Naked flesh touched naked flesh as we rejoined our bodies. He raised me up to him, and once more my legs wrapped around his torso. The bed was too damned far away. His arms were wrapped tightly around me, his fingertips grazing my back and sending tiny tremors though me. Our mutual goal was to have no more space or time interfere with our desire to unite. Managing to give me some support against a living room wall, he gently leaned me back against the cold smooth surface while attacking my mouth as though consuming us both. At last he shifted my body, allowing his hardened erection to find my entrance. Screaming out with joy at our ultimate closeness, I moved to take him inside me as deeply as I could.

"You're my life, Stephanie," he whispered, thrusting passionately and feverishly kissing me straight to paradise. From the tip of my head to my tingling hot toes, my body was on fire for him.

_OH—my—God! _

I'd never experienced heat like that! It was if our love had ignited us both into twin flames forced to be joined in order to quench the raging need enveloping us.

"Love you so much."

"Missed you so much."

"Never apart again!" We quivered toward climax.

"Never," I murmured in agreement, burying my face in his neck as the vibrations of our union sent jolts of ecstasy though us.

He increased the rhythm, and we rode the current together, as wave after wave of mind-blowing pleasure rocked us over and over again. I felt his warmth pouring into me, and I wanted it to happen-_craved_ for it to happen. Not wanting to end the moment, I prayed silently we had created something that would be a constant, beautiful reminder of the magic that _had_ always and would forever more be ours.

Aftershocks shook us to the core. He shuddered, and I heard my own soft moans turn to uninhibited zealous 'oh's' and 'ahs' as the orgasmic tremors overtook me. We were one again at last. This was like no other moment that had ever existed before.

He was mine.

I'd reclaimed him, and he'd reclaimed me.

"I love you so goddamned much. I don't ever want to be disconnected from you. I wish we could walk around like this together so nothing ever separated us again!" I told him, panting for breath.

He laughed and then kissed me. "I can only imagine the stares and Burg gossip we'd stir up. But if it's what you really want, Cupcake."

"I want you again!"

"Steph, I'm not sure I'm ready—"

I began to kiss his eagle-tattooed chest, licking upward toward his neck and nibbling here and there along the way.

"I'm getting more sure—" he groaned, his eyes closing briefly in desire.

He took the few strides to bring us to the bedroom. Still locked inside of me, he laid me down onto the soft pillows.

"I'll never have enough of you," he rasped. "As long as I breathe, I'll want you—I'll love you. I'm not me without you." We kissed greedily, his mouth possessing mine insatiably.

"Make love to me, Joe. Give me everything you have and everything you are. I want it. I want you to be a part of me forever."

"I am. I promise."

He kissed me so softly and sweetly. Taking in every inch of me as his lips traveled up and down my body and back again. Over my stomach and down my legs, his fingers laced through mine. He whispered all the pleasure he took in just being with me again, speaking beautiful Italian as he brought me to the pinnacle of pleasure again.

When at last we came together, I knew something spectacular had happened between us. We'd made a commitment of blockbuster proportions in those two unrepressed lovemaking sessions—one I doubted could ever be surpassed.

But I was wrong.

Throughout the night we somehow did, taking our connection to a higher—more intense—ecstasy with each touch. Each caress surrendered us to each other, as though we'd known all the battles were finally over. We'd made it through the torturous arduous past together; ready to share a future filled with an exquisiteness neither of us had ever dared to imagine or dream.

"_Shazam!__"_

We laughed as together we said the buzzword we'd always used at the end of our most spectacular lovemaking moments.

"I'm sorry, Cupcake," Joe gasped, "but you're going to have to let me rest a while. That was—I'm at a loss for words."

"Me too. I never knew it could be like this!"

"Me either," he said, sliding his body sideways so he could put his hand around the back of my neck and kiss my sated lips. "Amazing. I thought we've always had some pretty great sex, but this was—"

"Beyond."

"Yeah."

"I can't even imagine how it could get _any_ better." I couldn't stop smiling; I was so happy. Happier than I'd felt my entire life.

"I don't know, but I sure as hell can't wait to find out."

"I don't think love is a strong enough word for what I feel about you."

"I know. Words have yet to be invented."

Our fingers intertwined.

"Joe, if I'd known, I never—"

"No." He put a finger to my lips. "Don't say anything about the past. None of it matters. It's what got us _here_. Maybe _this_ is what it is, because we went through _that_. I don't know, and I don't care. I only want one thing, and that's you!"

"I feel it too, but you need to hear that I wouldn't have ever been so afraid of this had I truly known what could happen if I let myself be exactly where I wanted to be all along."

He gave me a deliciously long and delightfully sweet kiss.

It was near dawn. We were replete and exhausted in a wonderful way. Cuddling as close as we could, my head nestled on his chest. We finally drifted into a dream world that couldn't hold a candle to our beautiful reality.

Ranger's POV

Shit! It'd been a couple of hours since I'd hung up on Morelli, and I still couldn't get his voice out of my head, telling me I should tell Kate about the phony marriage too. Why the hell would it matter? I could tell her tomorrow. But something was bugging my suddenly over-zealous conscience. Why hadn't I told any of them from the start? Why hadn't I confessed to Steph when I saw how miserable she was about Morelli's marriage, and how much she hated Meg?

I had no real excuse. They all would've understood the importance of maintaining confidentiality.

I hit my head with the palm of my hand. Me—and my insane rules about relationships and missions. I thought it would be better to wait until the damned thing was over to tell anyone what I'd done. The truth was I felt slightly embarrassed about the whole thing. I didn't do overt, romantic gestures. This was going to show them I had a heart, and that was the last thing I needed anyone to know!

And yet a strange feeling had gone through me tonight that I needed to tell Morelli the truth. It'd hit me as I'd let my thoughts drift back to Kate and what had taken place earlier in the evening between us.

_What if the idiot had thought he had to be true to his vows?_

I knew what it was like to grow up with a religion that taught you the sanctity of marriage all too well. Why the hell else would I have married Julie's mom? Thinking of my own choices, I realized suddenly, while working on some paperwork, that Morelli probably had the same cockamamie ideals I'd had. Quickly on the heels of that awareness, it'd come to me that all of Meg's efforts to reunite them would have been for nothing.

I remembered we'd smuggled a phone into the clothing bag for Stephanie and knew I had to make a call.

Judging from the idiot's reaction, it was a damn good thing I had. Of course he'd been only too happy to bring up the fact he felt Meg deserved to know as well.

I felt uncharacteristically racked with guilt that she had no idea she was as free as he was. Was that any part of what had stopped her with me this afternoon? She hadn't said as much, but she was Catholic too!

Maybe we should all seriously consider changing religions.

My damned conscience was going into overdrive. This couldn't wait until morning.

My hand paused from grabbing my car keys. _Was my motivation only to tell her the truth and then leave? Or was I making up an excuse to see her again?_ I couldn't get her warm, sensuous lips off my mind. I'd tasted her sweetness, and I wanted it again—MORE than I would ever be willing to admit.

_What in the hell are you doing, Carlos? _Grabbing my jacket and keys, I headed for the door.

Kate's POV

I had a hard time coming down from the events of the day and night. Leaving Ranger's in much the same way I had before, after being so thoroughly kissed and fondled by him, my legs had been wobbly, as I'd made my way to the car.

I'd forced myself to eat dinner and walk Bob. Afterward, I'd leafed through three magazines, wishing for some mindless distraction that never happened. Giving up, I'd gone up to bed, hoping that reading a number one bestseller would do the trick.

Unfortunately, it hadn't.

_Damn it!_

Throwing down the book down, I'd forced myself to try to get some sleep. I kept tossing and turning as I remembered the feeling of Carlos' arms around me, his lips pressed to mine. Giving up the fight, I'd let myself enjoy the memory. At last, I'd felt my exhausted body relax and had fallen instantly to sleep.

I don't know how much time passed before I was awakened out of the blue. Bob rose partially, cried out plaintively, and then laid right back down with one paw over his head. _Some watchdog!_

My instincts told me I wasn't alone. My FBI-trained reasoning, even in a sleepy state, recalled I'd set the security alarm. Knowing the TPD and the FBI were watching me, I figured the place would be crawling with both by now. There was only ONE person who could've disarmed the system without causing a ruckus. Grabbing my gun, I listened in silence. I'd recognize that breathing anywhere. Tiptoeing in behind him, I got ready to put the mouth of my FBI, issued Glock into his miserable neck.

But he pulled a fast one on me, twisting around on a dime and grabbing me from behind. He disarmed me as easily as if I were a weak, untrained child.

_Shit! _

I hated it when he got the best of me! Being exhausted and awakened from a sound sleep had made me an easy target.

To his credit, Bob had followed me into the room, jumped up on the bed and had resumed his restful laid-back ways.

"Huh—not up to par tonight, Meghan?" he asked, a smirk on his aggravating face.

"I was asleep, you idiot—the best sleep I've had in weeks! What the hell are you doing here?" I asked, feeling almost naked in my brief silk pajama shorts and plunging, spaghetti-strapped top. I felt vulnerable and angry as hell. My hands went up to cover the cold-nipple imprints I could feel against my palms. _Shit, why hadn't I grabbed a robe?_

"I came to talk to you," he said simply as though he was dropping by for tea.

"It's the middle of the fucking night! I was sound asleep! What in the hell is so important that it couldn't wait until morning?"

"I—why aren't you in Morelli's bed?" His eyebrows scrunched, no doubt realizing how weird his question had sounded. "I mean—I meant—shouldn't you be sleeping in this room? It's the master."

"I didn't think it was right to sleep in my husband's house and bed when he isn't even here."

"He's—your not—"

"I sleep in the guest room—NOT that it's ANY of _your_ business!"

"Fine!"

"Fine? What the hell does fine mean. You don't get to approve or disapprove of MY life—what I do with it, where I sleep or with whom I sleep!"

_Take that, Jackass!_

**Ranger's POV**

"If you would get off your damned high horse, you might be interested in what I came here to say."

M_y God, what had I been thinking coming here alone at this hour? _Her skimpy attire was going to be my undoing. I stood there trying desperately to get my mind off what I'd seen before her hands had covered it.

Hot didn't begin to describe her. Her legs were long and smooth and perfectly muscled specimens that should only be wrapped and entangled with mine.

_Where the hell had that come from?_

I looked beyond her at the bed not ten feet away, and I knew there was another bed less than thirty feet through the other doorway. No way in hell would I get a legible word out while thinking that all I wanted was to share one with Meg.

"I need to tell you something, but NOT here. Come downstairs. You might want a robe. It's chilly down there."

She sure as hell better take my advice, or I wouldn't be able to keep my hands to myself._ What the hell was she thinking going to bed looking like that?_

I made my way down the steps—two at a time. It was fucking weird to be in Morelli's house of all places. _Shit!_ My life had turned into total absurdity!

Following me down the stairs and into the living room, the orange wooly mammoth sat across from me. His teeth barred, and a low growl emitted from him. Oddly, his tail was wagging, and his big red tongue hung out the sound of his mouth. He reminded me of Morelli.

"Go play in traffic, Rob."

"His name is Bob," Meg said going over to him and stooping to pet him affectionately.  
"We've finally bonded. I think he really misses Joe and Stephanie." I watched him lick her hands.

_Damn Dog! What did he know? I was lovable too! Shit that robe didn't cover her delectable legs nearly enough._

"Okay, Ranger—spit it out. What was so damned important it couldn't wait till morning?"

_Just what I needed another glimpse of that perfect cleavage of hers. _

"First off, I called Morelli—"

"You did what? You've got to be joking! Why? What possible reason could you have had to interrupt them? Can't you understand they LOVE each other! Why would you keep trying to poach when you know she loves _him_? Are you _ever _going to get over this fucking insane obsession you have for her?"

"I called to give him a valuable piece of information."

"What could you have to say that had to be said NOW? I can't believe you Ranger! For someone who prides himself on being totally emotionless and without feelings, you sure as hell are wearing yours on your sleeve when it comes to _that _woman! She belongs with JOE. Keep your steel-walled heart to yourself and leave her the HELL alone!"

"Stop it with the jealousy, Meg. You have NOTHING to be jealous of."

"I'm not jealous, you pompous ass! I'm angry as hell at you for trying to undermine everything we just did."

"I am not doing that."

"You are!"

_Damn it!_ She wouldn't shut up long enough for me to get in a word edgewise! There was only ONE way to get her to keep her mouth occupied.

"Why the hell—"

Suddenly cutting her off with my lips made good sense.

"Mmmm"

She kissed me back. In spite of everything she'd said that afternoon she kissed me hungrily. I wanted her more than I wanted to breathe. I didn't think I would breathe properly again, until I had her in my bed.

_What the hell was happening to me?_

**Kate's POV**

I didn't care why he was kissing me. I only knew I didn't want it to stop. A part of me hated myself for being weak, but a bigger part wanted him so damned much. I wanted to feel him inside of me again and feel his hands touching my body, his lips kissing me into murmuring submission.

He laid me down on the sofa, positioning his body over mine. His fingers were tugging at the straps on my top. In his impatience to rid of it, he tore one of them. Pulling the silkiness down so one of my breasts was fully exposed, he suckled it gently, and I thought I'd go out of my mind from the electric jolts of pleasure under his touch.

He kissed me passionately. My arms opened wantonly. I wasn't going to fight it anymore. I needed him, and I sensed he needed me. Maybe he didn't love me, but for a few stolen moments, I could love him.

Opening my mouth, I pressed my body and my lips hard against his. I desired nothing more than to be one with him again. He softly spoke his native language, as I felt him kissing my earlobe, and then he moved down toward my neck. _Oh God!_ This was too good to be true. He was there in my arms once again. I wanted to stay like that—forever.

"Hermosa mi ardiente, Cobre, mujer, quiero que lo hagan. Usted nunca perteneció a Morelli no es su marido. Él nunca tuvo. Usted es toda mía ahora.

I didn't care what he was saying, I wanted his skin against mine I began unbuttoning the black shirt, becoming as impatient as he'd been. Popping it open, a button flew off and hit the coffee table. The sound of it making contact nudged my total comprehension.

Some part of my trained linguistic brain picked up a part of his words that hadn't registered at first.

Suddenly my lips stopped kissing his. I felt a cold chill run over my entire body. Shoving at him to get the hell off of me, he didn't budge. His hands pushed me back continuing to kiss the hollow between my breasts.

"What the hell did you just say?" I asked. My voice was wrought with teetering emotions.

"I said you are beautiful, fiery copper and—"

"NO—after that!"

I shoved harder, and he landed on the floor—right where he belonged! I got up and searched around hastily for my robe. My top had disappeared, and I had nothing to cover my nudity. My hands crisscrossed in front of my breasts, while I managed to pick it up from Bob's body with my foot. As quickly as possible, I turned around and managed to get it on—inside out. Holding it together tightly with my hands, I attacked.

"Tell me what you said after the copper part."

He scrambled to get to his feet. I could see his bare chest, but the passion I'd felt moments ago was long gone.

"I said that you and Morelli were never married."

"_That's_ the part! What the hell are you talking about? Look—I'm wearing the rings, Ranger. I was there with him. We exchanged vows. Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm NOT."

"But how could it be true?"

"Do you remember the concierge who helped you at the hotel?"

"Yeah, he looked like—Oh my God! What _did _you _do_?"

"I did Morelli and Stephanie a favor—and you too if you'd only see it. I replaced the real minister with an actor—Juan, my cousin."

"You did me a _favor_? Why the hell didn't you bother to tell us _then_?" Swiping my hair out of my face, I clutched the robe with the other hand. I felt over-exposed and beyond betrayed.

"I was planning to tell you both after the mission was over. I didn't know Morelli was going to have more time with Stephanie, and it wasn't until tonight that it hit me. He might think he was doing the honorable, Catholic thing by keeping his vows to you."

"You son of a bitch! Do you have ANY idea what you caused by doing this to us?"

"No. What happened? Did you and Morelli do something in Atlantic City? Was Stephanie right? Did you have sex with him?"

"If you think I'm going answer to you about anything, after what you pulled, you're MORE clueless than I ever gave you credit for—you empty headed, cold-hearted excuse for a man!"

"What the hell happened? Did you two do something or not?"

"You want to know what happened, Ranger? Well, I'll tell you. Why not? Joe was so miserable about actually having to marry me, he got drunk—_very drunk."_

"If he laid a finger on you—"

"Why do you even care? It was just empty sexual pleasure I'd offered him—no different than what you wanted from _me_ not minutes ago!"

"I asked you if Morelli touched you in his drunken stupor. Tell me NOW!"

"No. He didn't touch me_. I_ came on to him. It was _ALL _me! He wasn't even aware of what hit him. He'd fallen asleep, and I made the moves on him. He felt my body on his and thought it was Stephanie seducing him."

"How far did it go?" he asked. His eyes bored into mine almost threateningly.

**Ranger's POV**

She laughed at me. _What the fuck? This wasn't funny at all!_

"How far have you gone with Stephanie?" she shot back.

"You know the answer to that. Stop avoiding this and tell me the truth."

"_HE_ stopped _me_. If he hadn't, I'd have taken it all the way. I wanted to feel what it would be like to be loved gently and tenderly by a man who knew how to express it—who wasn't afraid to be vulnerable by saying how he felt and demonstrating it beautifully!"

"Demonstrate—what the hell does that mean?"

"It means NOTHING! It never happened. We kissed. That's all."

"He stopped it?"

I could hardly believe it. How could any man want to stop making love to her? A part of me wanted to go to the safe house immediately and punch Morelli's lights out for having dared to touch her at all—mistake or no mistake.

_How dare he touch my—_

_My what?_

"Yes, he did. He said he loved Stephanie, and he only wanted her. Sound familiar, Carlos?"

"I don't _want _her! I want YOU!" I growled back.

"Yeah you want me—like any man who wants his sexual self-gratification."

"What the fuck? All we do is go in circles. I kiss you. I try to take it further, and you stop me. You're constantly telling me you know what I feel."

"You don't _feel_ anything_, _so it doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

"If I were to tell you how I felt, would you even believe me?"

"No!"

"That's what I thought. So it seems we're at an impasse."

"Our usual place. Why did you really do it, Ranger? Why did you make sure Joe and I weren't ever really married?"

"I knew Morelli was upset. The bruises on my face were good reminders. I knew you'd been married before and what a disaster it'd been. I figured you didn't need another failed relationship—pretend or real."

_I couldn't stand the thought of you actually marrying that numbskull. _

"What a load of bull! You and I both know Joe had _nothing t_o do with it! You chose to make it a phony marriage for Stephanie. _Everything _you do is for her. You knew it would break her heart not to be the first Mrs. Joseph Morelli. Why don't you just fucking admit the truth to yourself, along with everyone else? There isn't _anything_ you wouldn't do for that woman. In fact, _I know_ there is _nothing _you haven't already done." Her eyes bored holes into my soul.

"What in the hell are you getting at?"

"The FBI was HOT on Eddie Abruzzi's trail, Ranger. We were close to making a bust that would've put him away forever. We had our eye on him, and we knew he was threatening Stephanie. We were prepared to arrest him and have him indicted for racketeering, money laundering and arranging multiple mob hits. Imagine our surprise when hours before the bust was to take place, we learn he'd committed suicide. A highly successful Mafia man just up and killed himself out of the blue? He had NO idea we were even on to him. You think this mission we're on right now is secret? Guess again—_that_ one was practically underground."

"I was busy handling surveillance for another government agency at that time. What would Abruzzi's death have to do with me?"

"Ranger, I _know_."

Her eyes held no judgment. I saw only compassionate understanding.

It felt freeing to finally admit it to someone, "I—I did what had to be done. He never would've let her live."

"You killed for her. How can you deny that you love her?"

"How do you even—?"

"I was working the case from Newark. We were called in to the murder scene. It was all hush-hush. No one was to know how close we'd come. Abruzzi was just the beginning. We were going to use him to break up one of the biggest crime syndicates encompassing New Jersey, New York and Pennsylvania. It all went to hell when he died. I was there. The TPD didn't handle the forensics on the case. We did. I was flown in by helicopter. And it's a damn good thing I was there."

"You found it."

"Yes.

"You protected me?"

"What do you think? Do you really believe I'd let them imprison you for being so damned in love that you made a huge mistake? You were careless, Carlos. Your anger got the better of you. While you were so busy looking out for Stephanie's back, I had yours."

"I've always wondered. When nothing came of it, I thought I'd misplaced it. I half expected them to show up at my door with a warrant. I didn't want to believe I'd lost it there."

"I destroyed it. I'm sorry, I know it meant a lot to you."

"You did that for me—even when you'd thought I'd left you for her? You could've lost everything—your job—your reputation—"

"I hope that tells you something about me, Carlos. I understand what it means to be madly in love. You do things you'd never dream of doing. It's nothing to be afraid of. I'm happy for you to have experienced true love. I'm just sorry it was with a woman who was already taken ages ago."

I realized she'd compromised everything to protect me. It hit me hard in the gut. No woman had ever taken care of me, let alone jeopardized her livelihood and reputation for me.

"Why haven't you told me this before?"

"Because what would it have mattered? Would you have even admitted it or said thanks Meghan."

"He would have killed B—Stephanie."

"I know." The concern for me was evident in her eyes.

"She's vulnerable all the time. It's like she's had a hundred and ninety lives. I worry someday her luck may run out."

"Admit you love her. There's no sin in that, even if she is with Joe. Truth is truth."

"I _loved_ her."

"There. Was that so hard?"

"No, it would've been harder to admit it to you four years ago. That's why I never did."

"You don't have to say that."

"Truth is truth."

"You _were _in love with me? I mean, I'd thought so, but—"

"I _was_."

_I still am._

"I don't even know what to say. I never thought I'd live long enough to hear you admit it. Thank you."

"Thank you for having my back."

"It's what friends do."

_She'd proven her love for me. I felt unworthy to have it. I'd treated her atrociously._

"I should go."

"You should."

"No one can know the truth about the marriage, except the four of us."

"I'm aware. _All _your secrets are safe with me."

I nodded, because the knot in my throat wouldn't allow me to speak.

"It's okay, Carlos. I promise you. It stays between you and me forever."

Our eyes met, and I wanted to say something more, but I was afraid I'd hurt her too damned much already.

"I'm sorry I woke you. I hope you can get back to sleep."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Meg."

**Steph's POV **

Someone was tickling my nose. I grinned slightly because I knew only too well who was waking me up. I'd managed to hold an awareness of him all through my sleep—even waking a couple of times just to feel my head cuddled on his chest and my body encircled in his arms. The sound of his breathing had been music to my senses.

Rain was still pounding down outside and the room was pleasantly dark. Was there a more perfect reason to stay in bed-_not_ that we'd ever needed one.

"Morning, Clyde." I cracked open an eye to give him a snarky smile.

"Clyde?" He questioned quizzically.

"I named you before I fell asleep last night. I thought it fit you well. Especially the 'you' filled with stuffing and made out of plastic.

"Uh huh. Does that mean I should be naming you something new? How about Barbie? She's made out of plastic, and the bust measurements on her are unbelievable."

I slapped at his chest playfully, raising my head to look into his whiskey brown eyes. "NOT Barbie. I could never fill her bra cup."

"She could never fill your _anything_."

"You love me."

"Oh boy, do I love you!"

"I love you too." No more one-sided exchanges only from him. I'd match him mush for mush every time.

We made slow, sweet mid-morning love—totally treasuring the time we had. We knew it wasn't forever—not yet. But we hadn't spoken of it much. Neither of us wanted to ruin the fantasy that we would never be parted again.

We kissed our way into the shower, chuckling over the slippery soap and the multi spraying shower heads. It was like being secluded under a waterfall the way we were drenched with the warm rushing stream. We felt like we'd been given a reprieve, and neither of us wanted to waste ONE precious second.

We enjoyed toweling one another off and taking turns wrapping the warmed guest robes around each other. Morelli was totally shameless about leaving my sash as loose as possible.

Our stomachs let us know they were empty and ready to be satisfied. Since it was the only part of us that wasn't, we figured we could finally take a break to eat.

"Well, Resusci Anne—sounds like you're getting hungry."

"What? You're naming me after a CPR dummy?"

"Yep." He grinned. "I have my reasons though. You know the first step of CPR is mouth to mouth resuscitation." He proceeded to show me the tricks of the trade.

"I always knew we were in love with dummies."

He grabbed my hand wordlessly, and we headed for the kitchen

"Clyde and Anne really have a good thing going," I remarked as we gathered the ingredients to make my favorite French toast.

"Yeah, they do. I think they might be really great for each other," Morelli agreed, while cracking the eggs with one hand.

_Showoff!_

"I think they are a truly innovative and charming couple," I agreed.

"You sure? You didn't seem all that surprised when Clyde mentioned he was old fashioned. In fact, you seemed to be smirking as if it was something you've known for a very long time."

I grinned from ear to ear, starting the bacon while he did the coffee. "Well you know he does get a little—shall we say—comfortable in his ways, as in conservative or a little stuck on traditional habits."

"What?"

He lifted an eyebrow at me, dropping all pretenses.

"I'm a modern guy, Steph. I have a Ducati—or I did, until you drove it _here_. God knows if it's still safe out there in this storm."

He had that same distant look in his eyes that appeared every time his damned bike made its way into our conversations.

"Relax, your little baby is just fine, Mr. Predictable."

"Hey, what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

"It means, you are an old-fuddy-duddy when it comes to just about everything."

"I am not!"

"R two!"

"When?"

"Whenever it comes to your family. You're so used to your mother and grandmother bringing you the old family recipes every single week."

"It's part of being Italian; you know that. It would be rude not to accept the food they bring. And I don't hear you complaining when it comes to eating it," he added for good measure.

"Defensive much?"

"I'm just stating facts. Besides what do you call your weekly family dinners? If that isn't traditional and old fashioned, what is?

"Okay, that's a fair argument. We're even on that one. "

"Good. What do you mean on _that one_? There's more?"

"Oh, yeah."

"Fine. What other fuddy-duddiness are you talking about?" He flipped the French toast while I turned over the bacon.

"How often do you order anything different when you go to a restaurant? And what about all the rules you have about your life. Except for sex, you never deviate far from the tried and true habits you were brought up with."

"How so?

"I'm NOT saying this to put you down. I love _everything_ about you."

"Uh oh. But—" he said, leaving the opening for me to fill in.

"But you rarely deviate from routine. You buy exactly the same groceries every time you shop."

"I do not. That's ridiculous! You're the one who gets the peanut butter and olives ALL the time, and what about the donuts—?"

"That's NOT a rut, Morelli. It's knowing dessert is the most important food group. You've got to admit, peanut butter and olive sandwiches are an inventive, New Age way of eating. What you eat all the time is damned dull."

"Is that so? How is it that what you eat is innovative, and what I eat is boring? Especially since most of the time you and I eat the same things?"

"Not entirely true. Name the last time you bought any other flavor of ice-cream besides Chocolate."

"I—I—Uh—I like chocolate!" He folded his arms in front of his chest.

I laughed at him, lightly kissing his cheek. "I love chocolate too, because it reminds me of your eyes."

He grinned at me then. "Okay, what else am I kind of in a rut about?" he asked, unusually willing to be open to his faults.

"You wash your car every single Sunday at one o'clock."

"It's my day off. When else am I supposed to do it? Besides, if I did it any later, I'd miss the pregame shows."

I hid my Cheshire cat grin.

"And what about the way you never want me to wear anything with too much cleavage—that is unless we're at home alone, and then you want _loads_ of it."

"That's because those beautiful breasts of yours are supposed to be exclusively mine."

We dished up breakfast, sitting really close to one another, so that our knees touched as they peeked out of the robes.

"I thought they were mine," I told him, my eyes dancing with over-protesting denial.

"Nope, they belong to me."

"What part of you belongs to me then?" I asked him.

"Any part you want."

"I might want _every_ part."

"You want my feet? You always say how weird my toes are?"

"Well, the jury's still out on the feet—though you do seem fascinated with them the way you're always staring at them."

I couldn't resist pushing a few more buttons. I didn't want to fight. In fact, I wanted to share some of the things that had kind of driven me nuts over the years and endeared him to me to him almost as much—strangely enough.

"I am NOT staring at my feet."

"Okay, Morelli—if you say so."

"I'm not!

"You do too—all the time."

"I'm gathering my thoughts," he protested gruffly.

"Oh, so that's where you keep your brain!"

"Are we going to fight?" he asked me quizzically.

"No, I don't think so."

I caressed his cheek softly, so he'd know I loved him all the way from his strangely shaped toes to his curly head.

"Good. That's a relief."

"Unless _you_ want to fight." I thought he might swat my butt for that remark.

"No, not me."

He shrugged playfully, while feeding me a piece of his bacon dipped in the maple syrup just the way I loved it.

"I guess we should we get back to the subject of my being too old-fashioned and stuck in my ways?"

"You admit it?" I asked, surprised. This was way easier than I'd imagined.

"I think it's because I'm kind of used to my own routine. I've been a bachelor _way _too long." He shook his head sorrowfully.

_God he was adorable. _

"You really have," I agreed, forking a piece of my French toast with cinnamon and powdered sugar and raising it to my mouth. He grabbed my hand and rerouted it straight into his.

"I think my first and only marriage might change that." He offered, his eyes twinkling.

"So you think if you married—maybe—say _me_—you'd be eating Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream by now or even Jamocha Almond Fudge?"

"I'd be willing to bet I'd be ordering double scoops of each every time—_if_ you were my wife."

I felt my mouth curl at the corners. "What about trying calamari or escargot?"

"The calamari is fine, but not so crazy about the idea of snails."

"Okay I'm with you on the snails. So if we were married you'd actually become adventurous?"

**Joe's POV**

I took her free hand in mine.

"I would. I might even take my wife to some really nice exotic places. We'd travel whenever we could—you know see the world. I have a feeling she might like things like bungee jumping, sky diving, parasailing—anything that makes her feel like she's flying would make her happy."

"Morelli, are—are—are you proposing to me?"

She nearly choked on her coffee. Her eyes widened, and I could feel her hand shaking in mine. I felt bad. I wanted to so much, and yet I had no right to ask her to commit to me with my future so uncertain.

I shook my head sadly. _If only I could_.

"I can't do that—not just yet anyway. But I want to talk about it. When this whole thing is over—how do you feel about the idea of us getting married?"

"If you _were _proposing—I'd say where's my parachute?" she said with such a beautiful glow in her eyes and a smile that was so bright it could've come straight from the sun.

"You'd like to go on that adventure with me?"

"I can't think of anyone I'd feel happier or have more fun with," she assured me.

I tilted my head, unable to erase the silly grin on my face. "Good to know, Cupcake."

She silly-grinned me right back.

"If you weren't going to prison, would you be asking—?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out."

"Oh, so now you're an old-fashioned/modern man of mystery?"

"I'm really going to work on that rut of mine."

"Don't work on it too hard. I kind of like it sometimes."

"Only sometimes?"

"Yeah, but I love _you_ ALL the time!"

"I loved you before, Steph, just the way you were. I _really_ did. But who you've grown into and who you are now is so much more than I'd ever imagined. I find myself falling in love with you all over again—every single day."

"I hope I'm the woman you've always deserved to have, Joe."

"You are. You _definitely _are. I hope I'm the man you deserve too."

"You are. I'm the luckiest woman alive!"

"I think it's time for me to remind you of why you're thinking that way."

"I love a man who takes initiative."

"Oh, I plan to take a lot more than that, Cupcake."

Ranger's POV

Summoned to the control room, Lester informed me of a problem.

"Something's going on at Stephanie's apartment. Someone just jammed our feed, and there's no picture or audio.

"Shit! I'm on my way."

I raced across town. What the hell was this newest complication? Thank God, Steph was with Morelli.

Could I get there in time to stop this asshole from bothering her anymore? Of course thoughts of what I'd done to Abruzzi came rushing back. Any time I had to offer Stephanie my protection those memories were right there.

I had to stay focused and take care of the operation at hand.

Not wanting to waste a second on the damned elevator or alert the prowler to my arrival, I raced up the stairs, pulling my gun as I approached the door. There were no sounds coming from the apartment. Could my men have been mistaken? Maybe it was merely an equipment malfunction?

Using Rangeman's duplicate of Stephanie's security fob to disarm the system, I performed my usual bag of tricks to bypass the locks and chain and let myself stealthily into the apartment. I made my way with cat like precision toward the kitchen.

I heard nothing.

Not the sound of Rex's wheel or the crack of old furnace pipes.

Babe had done a fantastic job changing the place into a livable, functioning adult space. I sighed; relieved she really was turning into a full-fledged grown-up.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

The perpetrator had a gun trained on me as if ready to pull the trigger.

"What am _I _doing here? What the fuck are _you_ doing here?"

**Steph's POV**

Later, after we'd taken plenty of initiative and shown serious ambition toward mutual goals, we ate cold cuts, French bread, and fed one another grapes. Splitting a bottle of wine, we were both so relaxed and happy a car could have exploded in front of our eyes, and we wouldn't have given a rat's ass.

The rain had stopped. Spring had appeared toward afternoon. I opened the doors to the terrace, letting the fresh-air breeze through the apartment. There was a beautiful sunset. Searching the room for the stereo, I put on some soft swaying music.

Morelli knocked my socks off by waltzing over to me comically and extending a hand.

"Care to dance?"

"I'd love it, as long as you don't step on my toes," I teased him.

We were both barefoot. He guided me out to the still drying patio and took me in his arms. We could hear the faintly playing music, but it wouldn't have mattered if nothing were playing at all. We were lost in one another—so entranced we'd formed our own rhythm.

There was something important I wanted to say to him. I'd been waiting for just the right time, and I knew this was it.

Kissing him repeatedly and feeling his enthusiastic responses, I felt eager. I knew he was as ready as I was to begin a new dance.

"I'm happy, Joe. For the first time in my life, I can say those words and mean them like I never have before."

"Me too, Cupcake—happiest ever."

"There's only one thing that would make me even more content than I am now."

"Let me guess," he said, his knowing eyes smiling into mine. I decided to go ahead and let him give it a try, but I was pretty damned sure he didn't have a clue.

"Okay, let's hear what you've got?"

"Donuts?

"No."

"Cake?"

"No."

"Uh oh, am I hot or cold?"

"Freezing like ice."

"Really? Pineapple Upside Down Cake."

"Nope."

"Tastykake?"

"Not even close."

"Hmmm…your own Ducati?"

"Nope, but it's similar to that."

"A car?"

"No silly. You were warmer with a motorcycle.

"Why? How is my motorcycle similar to what you want?

"Well your motorcycle is precious to you. That's how."

"I give up," he said, totally puzzled. "Suppose you tell me, and I promise if it's within my power to get it for you, I will."

"Oh, it is."

"Cupcake?"

I tiptoed up to kiss his lips and whispered the words softly to him.

Revealing my deepest desire, my eyes filled as I told him my longest held dream—a dream I never really knew I'd had.

"I want to have a baby with you."


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Not my characters. No profit.

Carol, you _are _the best Beta in the world. I value and appreciate your honesty and insights each and every chapter. I know how lucky I am to have a friend like you. I hope you have a wonderful fun-filled, weekend. Happy 20th Anniversary!

Kimmy, thanks so much for your perfect advice regarding this and the next chapter. It feels like I've known you, for a long time too, my friend.

Thank you to those who are reading and reviewing. Your continued support and detailed feedback is truly a gift that gives me insights and inspiration as I am writing this story.

**Joe's POV**

As I heard Stephanie speak, my mouth dropped open.

"Uh—you know, when you're a crash test dummy, there are lots of deafening noises. The hearing is first to go. I think you need to repeat what you just said."

"You heard right. I want to have your baby, Joe. It would be the last thing I'd ever expect me to say too. I'm sure stranger things have happened. I'm just not sure when."

"With you? All the time," I cracked.

"So what do you think? Have I lost my mind wanting us to procreate? Is this crazy—me wanting to make you a father and me actually becoming a mother?"

I realized this wasn't a joke or even her simply trying to feel me out about a mostly avoided subject. The words were lighthearted, but her eyes were dead serious.

"Cupc—" My voice croaked.

No one had ever left me speechless as many times as she had. You could have knocked me over with a cotton ball. I felt my heart melt and my mind go blank. I stared into those sparkling, ocean-blue eyes, trying to read her beautiful face and fully digest what she'd said to me.

Her smile beamed. "You're kind of pale, Morelli. I know I've taken you by surprise. You're probably going into shock. Do you need to sit down? Or would you rather have mouth to mouth?"

"Definitely the latter." I kissed her as though she had just presented me with the best gift of my life—because she had.

"I—uh—you want us to have a ba—bab—baby? Are you sure about this?"

"I'm very sure. I've given it lots of thought. I know in the past I've dreaded the idea, except for maybe a couple of times when Mare had her two rug-rats and when Val gave birth to Lisa. I had a few of those 'your-biological-clock-is-going-to-explode-soon-if-you-don't-do-something-about-it' feelings."

"Every other woman's biological clock merely runs out. Only yours would explode," I interjected wryly. She ignored my jab completely. That alone showed me there was no doubt about her sincerity.

"I've always managed to fool myself that I had plenty of time. Recently, I realized I'm nearly thirty-four, and if it's ever going to happen, _someday_ is now. I don't want us to be so old you can't pitch a ball, or I have to be spoon fed while _my_ hands are shaking trying to feed our child."

I raised a brow at her. "I get your point."

"I'm worried it won't happen at all. I don't want to be stupid again and nearly miss out on what I know underneath all my pessimistic pretenses is something I've really _always _wanted."

"My God!"

I never thought I'd hear the words cross her lips, let alone become reality. I'd never allowed it to be more than a dream in my head—a far-away-distant dream—and here she was telling me it could come true? I couldn't believe it.

She smiled ruefully. "I want to be the mother of your children. I hope that doesn't scare the hell out of you the way it used to."

"Not a bit," I answered without hesitation, resisting the urge to check her forehead for a fever.

"That's a relief."

"_Children_? How many are you thinking?"

"Child—to start with anyway. I mean we _will_ only have one at a time. _Right?_ Twins don't run in our families, do they?" She looked a little spooked.

"No. Not that I know of. How long have you been considering this?"

She bit her lip slightly. "Truthfully, ever since you and I got back together four years ago, it's been flittering in and out of my mind."

"_It has_?" I was stunned.

"For fleeting seconds. My mind would go there, but I'd pull it back immediately. You know me, I wasn't in any rush to grow up."

I nodded, my mouth curling slightly because she'd grown up beautifully.

But recently, ever since the last time we made love, I've been hoping I'd actually gotten pregnant."

"Uh—Steph, we didn't use any condoms. You were on the pill—right?"

The silence hung in the air between us.

"Are you trying to tell me it happened? Are you_ already pregnant_?"

I felt my heart lurch—part happy—part I don't know what?

"No." Bitterly disappointed tears filled her eyes. "I was hoping it had—but it didn't."

"Why _now_?"

"I _love _you. Isn't that reason enough?"

"Of course it is—but has this got something to do with me going to prison? Are you afraid I might not come back to you?"

"I am! I'd be lying if I said otherwise. You're my life. Living without you would be like being in hell, Morelli. You have to know that."

"I feel the same way about you."

Pulling her with me into an easy chair, I set her on my lap and encircled my arms around her, cradling her head as I kissed away the single falling tear.

"You _don't _have to do this, Stephanie."

"Yes I do. _Listen _to me. I don't want to be a screwed-up adolescent anymore. There isn't time to waste. The thought of you—if I had a baby—_our baby_—a part of you would _always_ be with me."

Full-blown crying had taken over the single tear.

"I'll always be with you." I stroked her hair and played with an unruly curl. "No matter what—I swear I will. I promise you that."

"How can you? If something terrible happens—?"

"I'd haunt you. You'd never get rid of me."

"Not even with Ghostbusters?" She tried to play along, failing to hide the catch in her voice.

"Not even then." I caressed her cheek with my fingers.

She tried to crack a smile, but her lips dilapidated to a miserable frown. "It's not funny."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make it easier. I guess there's nothing that'll do that."

"Having a part of you with me would make it more bearable."

"A baby now would be too damned hard for you and fucking _impossible_ for me."

"Why?" she challenged, wearing the belligerent look I'd seen thousands of times before.

"Because I have _no_ idea how long I'll be gone. The idea of you out here in _any _kind of danger is horrible enough. If you were carrying our child as well, I think I'd go insane."

"More than you already are?"

"Yeah, way more."

"I'll be okay. And just think when you come out, we'd be here waiting for you."

"NO way in hell!" I said it with way more intensity and impact than I'd intended.

"Why not? I swear to you I want this more than I've ever wanted _anything_ in my life. You have to listen to and hear me. I am not a pseudo adult acting like a spoiled teenager anymore. I want to be a mother. I want to feel our baby moving and kicking inside of me. I think about it _every _day. I can't think of _anything_ else!"

"Cupcake, I love you for that. I'm so damned crazy about you already, and you found a way to make me even more nuts about you. You and me, creating a new life—WOW!"

She gulped back tears, giving me her most pitiful and pleading look.

"No," I said shaking my head. Now is NOT the right time. I don't want to be locked away from you and the amazing miracle it would be to have a child with you! I'd miss _everything—_the doctor's visits, hearing its heartbeat, and even the ultrasounds. You driving me stark raving mad with hormonal crying jags. Making me go out on freezing cold nights to purchase the most loony food cravings only you'd come up with. What about the birth of our little Plum/Morelli? I _need _to be there!"

"Little Morelli," she corrected confidently.

"I'm amazed that doesn't horrify you. Do you know what a little hellion I wa—"

"Yeah, you still were at eighteen." She smiled seductively, "But you were also irresistible."

She enticed a smile out of me as only she could.

"I was—wasn't I?"

"Except for that humongous ego of yours," she added dryly.

"You just couldn't leave me with a compliment?"

"It wouldn't be me if I did, would it?" she asked with a grin.

I gave her a kiss. She was pretty damned irresistible too.

"Back to the subject at hand," I said, caressing her face gently. "I _want_ to be with you, holding your hand as you crush mine, screaming curse words at me for daring to make you pregnant in the first place."

"I'll never scream at you for that—I _want_ this. You won't change my mind."

"I love that you want a baby. I do too. I swear to you." I paused, and then shook my head vehemently, refusing her.

"_Not now, Stephanie._ _Not this way_!"

She pushed my arms away, hopping out of my lap and walking toward the patio to stare aimlessly out the glass doors. I could tell by her shaking shoulders she was taking my refusal hard.

**Steph's POV**

I was fighting anger and tears. He couldn't mean it. How could he deny me this _one_ thing!

"Steph."

Joe walked over to me, but I was hurt and feeling a lot like that stubborn teenager I'd said I wasn't going to be anymore. I shook his hand off my arm.

"Cupcake, do you know how much this means to me? I _want_ this too—as much as you do, I promise. I _really_ do. But I have to tell you I want _us_ too. _Our _marriage. I think we should be husband and wife first, at least for a while. After all this is over, Steph, as selfish as it might sound, I want you _all _to myself. I want it to be the _two_ of us."

"I understand how you feel, but—"

"I want to enjoy being married—finally. We both need time before we take on parenting."

"How long?"

I'll make you a deal. When this fucking mission is over, we'll get married, and then after a few months, I promise we'll try for _real_."

"I don't _want_ to wait," I told him, teary-voiced. "We may never have another chance."

"Because you think I'm going to die?"

"I don't know!"

I threw myself into his arms and proceeded to drench his shirt.

"Thinking that way is no reason to have a child," he said admonishingly.

I pulled back from him, glaring through my tears. "It is too. You just don't understand!"

"I do. I get why you're thinking the way you are. But I am NOT going to go on this mission knowing I left you to raise OUR child alone. How do you think I'd feel being dead and watching you struggle, trying to make a life for yourself and our baby—without me?"

"Being dead, I doubt you'd feel anything!" I snapped back at him.

"You know what I mean! The thought of me dying, knowing you're alone."

"Don't say that! You can't be dead—ever!"

"Steph, if you're wanting this child in case I die, then you have to think of me gone forever to really see how this decision will affect your entire life."

I—I can't. The thought of losing you—"

"I can't bear the thought of you taking on this huge responsibility and me not being there to support and help you."

"What if it's what _I_ want?"

"What if it's NOT what I want?

I stomped my foot. "You're being a stubborn mule!"

"I know. It goes with the old-fashioned thing. I don't want the woman I love trying to carry on with a broken heart and a screaming, demanding infant whom reminds her of me all the time and does nothing but make her want to cry every single day! That's the reality here. You need to see this, as it would be, not with rose-colored glasses on. You'd be grieving. That baby would take every last ounce of strength out of you."

"I'd smile too—every time I saw _you_ in his or her eyes or smile."

_I can keep it together if he doesn't let me have my way. I'll do it anyway. He doesn't have to know. Won't he be surprised when he comes home to find out he's going to be a daddy, or he already is one?_

"_Stephanie—NO!"_

Apparently I had gotten bad at concealing a hidden agenda.

"Fuck!" He threw his arms out in sudden realization. "Don't tell me you're not taking the pill now either?"

I tilted my neck and gazed at him insubordinately, knowing he'd always be one step ahead of me.

"Damn it!" He shook his head in total frustration.

"I may have gone off them while we were broken up, and—uh—I didn't know you were going to come to my apartment that night. We'd been apart for so long—I just stopped."

I was the one waving my hands around for a change. We'd been together so long; it must have rubbed off.

"It was too depressing to take them for no reason, and sometimes they have those damned side effects I hate! I had NO idea you'd be _here _either_._ So the answer is maybe yes—maybe no."

He took both his hands and placed them firmly and lovingly on my shoulders.

"Which is it?"

"No." I shrugged unapologetically.

He scrubbed his hand over his head. "SHIT! Don't you think you should've told me? We don't even have any condoms?"

"You didn't ask."

"Great answer, Stephanie."

"I'm not sorry, okay? I was praying with _everything_ in me that you and I made a baby _last_ night. I hope we did with all my heart. I understand you want to be there. Believe me, I want you there more than anything too. If I'm ever going to have a baby, it _has_ to be _yours, _and I need you to be happy if I am. Can you be?"

"This isn't fair. Of course I'd be happy, but my God! Why can't you see that the timing couldn't be worse?"

"Timing for us is always off! If we wait till it's right, it may NEVER happen!"

"I'm calling Eddie to get us some condoms, so we can have some protection."

"If you do, you'll be having sex alone the rest of the time you're here!"

"Are you threatening me?"

"Yes."

**Joe's POV**

"Well that's mature!"

"I'm trying to grow up. I'm asking you to make me a mother. I am _begging_ you to give me a baby! I'm ready to take care of another human being. That is the ultimate, unselfish act. It's a hundred zillion percent proof I'm committed to you, and that I'll love you forever."

"I didn't _ask_ you to prove it."

"I want to. I want this baby of ours! Morelli please, for once in our lives, can we _just _take a _chance_. Stop trying to make it all work and fit into round holes and timetables. Let it happen. If it does, then I promise I will be the happiest woman on earth. If it doesn't, then we'll do it your way when you get out. No pills. No condoms. No rules."

"I don't believe this!"

I shook my head. She wasn't going to give in. I knew her well enough to know that.

"Please don't ask this of me now. I can't be in _there _and miss the most important moments of my life with you."

"I'll tape everything. The visits to the doctor _and_ my growing belly and breasts."

"Shit, that's _another_ thing I'll miss!" I swiped the air with my hand, trying to control the frustration.

"You'll get to be there for our next baby from beginning to end."

"It won't be the same as missing the first one." I was acting like a sulking brat. "How would you like to miss the first one if it was the other way around?"

She smiled smugly, keeping silent.

"You know what I mean!"

"You might not miss the birth or any of it. We might be back together in a month."

"If you're such an optimist, why can't you just be positive about me getting out in one piece and us having this baby at a better time?"

She folded her arms and planted her feet apart.

"I'm going to do this with or without you."

I gave her an 'I'd-like-to-see-you-try' look.

She blushed. "You know what I mean!"

"Then it's _without _me. This is supposed to be a mutually agreed upon decision. I don't agree to it. Good luck getting pregnant without a willing father to help you."

I stomped off toward the bedroom, slamming the door shut.

**Ranger's POV**

I did a double take as I stood with my gun drawn facing the intruder. What the hell was she doing here, and why in the hell was she wearing a brown curly wig? She didn't even lower the damned gun once she saw it was me.

"What the fuck are you doing in Stephanie's apartment?"

"Doing my job."

"What job? Are you here because of your insane jealously? What could you possibly get out of being here? Are you losing your mind? One minute you say you want Steph with Morelli like you're her best friend. Now you're in her apartment wearing her clothing. What's with that wig? What the hell gives? I told you, Meg—there is NOTHING to be envious of!"

She laughed out loud. I hated it when she did that. She always seemed to be mocking me one way or another.

"Can you lower your gun?" I asked, striving for a calmer tone.

"You first."

"No you."

"I'm not going to shoot you—at least not in the heart. I'll aim for a leg," she offered reassuringly.

"You _have_ lost your mind! What in the hell are you doing here? Are you trying to pretend you're Stephanie? What possible reason could you have? My mind can't warp into where your mind seems to have sadly gone! I have no idea what you think you're going to get out of this."

"Can't you really, Ranger? I want to see what it _feels_ like to be HER. I want to know what it's like when _you're_ so crazy in love with a woman you can't keep your hands off of—even if she's taken. I want to imagine how it is when you touch her, what she does, how she reacts.

Megan walked toward me, still holding the gun. Plastering her body as close to mine as she could, she gyrated slowly in front of me. Her free hand went to my cheek. My armed hand dropped. I felt her breath on my neck, and even though I knew she was playing me, I was aroused. She puckered her lips as if she was going to kiss me.

And then her blazing eyes belied her words.

"What's the matter? Am I turning you on too much, _Babe?_"

She dropped her hand, jerking it back as though she'd been burned.

"You're a real piece of work—you raving, mad lunatic! Why in the hell would I want to be _her_?"

"Then what the fuck are you up to?" I raised my gun again, unsure of what I'd be dealing with next.

"My job, you ignorant idiot. I told you!"

"Your job? I thought about all the probabilities that might entail. Coming up with only one, my eyes widened in denial. "The hell you are! NO!"

"You don't have a say in this." She held her gun on me as if I was her worst enemy. "I don't work for you. I work for the Bureau, remember? They're on board with this one hundred percent. So get the hell out! Let me do what I came here to do."

"You're not going to be bait for that crazy madman. That is final!"

I holstered my gun, relieved she wasn't quite as crazy as I'd imagined. That was good, because even the possibility of being slightly in love with a loony tune wouldn't say a lot about my own sanity.

"I married—I am _supposed_ to be Joe's wife—in order to do just that." She pointed at me accusingly. "How many times have you reminded me that I came here to protect Stephanie? Now that she's gone, it's a perfect opportunity for me to lure that jackass out from under the rock where he's living. I want him to come after me with both fangs, and when he does—"

"HE won't, because YOU are not doing this!" I sliced my hand in the air to put an end to her lame plan.

"Someone has to. Better me than Stephanie. When she gets back here after Joe goes to prison—it will be ONE less thing to worry about. If I can get that scary freak to make a move on me, we've got him. We can find a connection, if there is one. If there's not, it's still going to help me protect her. You should be happy. Watching out for her has been your calling for the last few years. Now you have help."

"She is NO longer my responsibility. She's Morelli's now."

"Yeah, well those words ring pretty empty when you say them." Her eyes narrowed in disbelief.

"It's the fucking truth! And you are NOT going to go out there to put yourself in grave danger without even so much as a heads up to me!"

"Okay, Ranger. Fine. Consider this your heads up. I'm doing this!"

"No, you're not!"

"You don't get to dictate that. You are not in charge of this part of the operation!"

"I am in charge of the entire security of this covert mission, and you, Meg, will follow my orders!"

"Damn it, Ranger! Stop thinking like a man and start thinking like a—

"A what? I am a man-_the_ man who is in charge of this whole operation. That includes you. I brought you into it, and I'll decide how far things go."

"Bull shit! I don't want you to be worried about me." She gave me a haughty glare.

"Make up your mind! First you're pissed, because you think I don't care. Now you're angry that I do! What the hell do you want?" I shook my head, trying to control the aggravation I felt.

We stood facing, bodies frozen in a warring stare down.

"I—Please just go with this. It's the best thing to do—for Stephanie and for this operation," I pleaded. You'd do it with anyone else. You're just feeling guilty about it being me."

"I am not."

I sighed deeply, because she was right. I was feeling like a total asshole over everything I'd been putting her through for years. And if this were any other female FBI operative, I _would_ have said great idea—why didn't I think of it?

"Okay, fine, you can do it—on one condition."

"What?"

"_I'm_ going to be the one protecting you."

Her face softened slightly. "Okay. That I can deal with."

"Good. When?"

"Tomorrow night. I just came here to get the scope of the place and see what the best strategy would be."

"You, on foot. No car chases. That could go wrong too easily. We can follow you a safe distance hiding nearby. You'll wear a wire and a tracking device."

"In my shoe. No wire."

"Meg!"

"You'll be right there. What would I need with a wire?"

"You want all my hair to go gray, don't you?"

"Better than bald," she smirked.

"Well it would help if you didn't make me want to pull it out on a daily basis."

"I do that to you?" She seemed inappropriately amused.

"Don't be so happy about it."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Ranger." She smiled that sweet Meg smile I loved.

_Wait a minute—I LIKED._

_A lot._

"I'll be here. What time."

"Eight?"

"Perfect. Shortly after dark is best."

"Good night."

"Night.

Ranger?" she paused hesitatingly.

"What?" I spun around, strangely hoping she'd ask me to stay.

"Thanks for having _my _back."

She set the gun down on the entertainment center.

I gave a small, derisive snort. "That's what friends do, or so I'm told."

**Meg's POV**

I felt strangely happy after Ranger left Stephanie's apartment. At least he cared about my safety. I'd almost given up on that. I couldn't help focusing on all the kissing we'd done lately and how it'd felt to have his arms around me again.

I wanted it so damned much! If anything close to what had happened last night reoccurred, I'd be lost. I loved him more than ever. Something was beginning to make an imprint on my mind. He'd said he no longer wanted Stephanie—that he wanted me. I wasn't so stupid as to think it was because he loved me. However, having him want me again was at least a step in the right direction.

Earlier I'd done a load of laundry in the creepy basement of Stephanie's building. Luckily, I had studied the blue prints to the complex, wanting to make sure we had the entrances and exits covered, so I'd known where it was located. I'd accidently spilled a jar of honey on the floor when I'd made tea. Grabbing a handful of towels from a drawer, I'd wet them to help clean it up. I'd then been afraid the towels would get moldy.

I Somehow it felt wrong to leave a mess for Stephanie. Making my way down to the basement and the dryer, I hurried as quickly as possible. Basements—especially this one—had a thousand places someone could easily hide. Normally I wasn't so easily spooked, but I had a bad feeling, and I couldn't shake it.

I liked Stephanie's apartment. She'd used nice colors, and it felt peaceful. I missed my beach cottage and wondered if I'd be back there soon.

Pushing the security clearance into the key fob, I stepped back into the apartment with a laundry basket in hand, ready to flick on the overhead light. Just then a shiver ran up my spine. As I turned, the basket was knocked out of my hands. A man dressed in dark clothing, about six feet tall and wearing a ski mask, grabbed me. Wrenching my body into the wall by the door, I felt a slight shock as he used a taser on my neck. It wasn't enough to knock me out, but I felt momentarily disoriented.

He kicked the door shut, locking it securely. Prying the keys from my hand, he stomped repeatedly on the keypad until it was crushed into bits.

"No one will be disturbing us now." His voice sounded froglike, and my vision was slightly impaired, sending only blurry images through my brain.

As full awareness slowly returned, I tried to focus. I opened my mouth to scream—

One gloved hand clamped hard over it, muffling my efforts to get help. The room was only dimly lit with a small desk lamp. Dark, evil eyes glowered into mine. And I knew I was face to mask with Stephanie's stalker. His knee pushed me harder against the wall, and his other hand felt like a vice grip on my arm. His body was so close and crushing into mine so firmly, I couldn't even raise a hand to defend myself.

"Stephannniiiiiee, we meet againnnnn!"

Shit!

Where the hell was my back up? There was a car with two guys out in the lot and another detail in front of the place. Why hadn't they seen him enter the building? They should've been in there already.

"No screaming. No one is going to help you. I know all the people in this building are seniors, and they won't even hear you scream. That rat of yours is no watchdog either. Lucky for you, I won't have to kill it."

He chuckled at his own twisted wit. "I need you to punch in the code to disarm this thing. I may need to make a quick exit. I don't want the cops coming to check out an alarm going off. YOU better make it the right code or so help me, no one will be able to put you back together when I get through with you."

He pushed me toward the box. I fumbled the code to disarm it, hoping to God someone from Rangeman or the guys outside would realize it'd been off for quite a length of time. I needed for them to come check it out. Unfortunately, I didn't know more than Steph's code to arm and disarm the damned thing.

He pulled me back, twisting my body up against the wall. If I could just get my gun, I'd blow this asshole to kingdom come!

I tried squirming, the little I could. Managing to wrench my mouth free for an instant, I screamed. "Get the hell away from me!"

His hand stifled it. I struggled hard against him. He growled, encircling his hands around my neck and trying to block my air intake. His fingers tangled in the wig hair, which dislodged the hairpiece slightly.

"Wait a minute!"

His eyes were furiously betrayed, dead dark orbs. He pushed me over to the light switch, flicking on the overhead fixture.

"You're not Stephanie!" I felt my own hair being torn at the roots as he ripped off the wig. "Who the hell are you?" he snarled threateningly. "If you so much as yelp, I'll snap you in two." Slowly releasing the grip on my neck, I gasped for air.

"You're worst nightmare, Jacakass!"

I lunged my body into his, raising my leg and kicking him as hard as I could. He made a grunting noise, as I scrambled to the entertainment center to retrieve my gun. He growled, attacking me from behind and nailing my body to the floor. His legs straddled mine. His hand ripped my blouse in one wrenching tear. I tried to gouge my nails into the mask's eyeholes, and he struck me hard in the face.

"Shut up, Bitch! I'll teach you to try to fool me! Are you a cop? Who the fuck, are you?"

"I'm a friend of Steph's. She's out of town." I was trained not to show fear, but this was scarier than hell. He was evil incarnate. I felt it in every pore of my skin.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know! I needed a place to stay and—"

His body flattened over mine his hands, shoving my arms above my head against the hard, cold wood floor. His mouth covered mine stopping any more explanation, and I wanted to throw up.  
Biting his tongue as hard as I could, he yowled in pain. I heaved him off me, knocking a lamp over in the process. I scurried to my feet and searched for my gun, breathing a sigh of relief when I had it in hand.

His leg shot out, made connection with my hand, and the gun went flying. He had to have had martial arts training to know how to move that way. His hands groped for me, hauling me back, and we fought like wild banshees. I punched, hit and kicked him, knocking him to the floor more than once, but he was relentlessly fighting back. He wouldn't stay down no matter what I tried. He got up, and his mouth was foaming in rage as he hurled himself at my body.

Grabbing my hair in his hands, he yanked it as hard me to pull into the kitchen. Tears mixed with terror- filled perspiration as the pain began to infiltrate my head and body. Pulling a knife from a wooden holder, he put it to my throat.

"TALK before I slit your scrawny neck."

Suddenly, I remembered hearing Joe having said something about Steph always hiding her gun in a cookie jar. I'd learned over the years to store what seemed like useless information for future necessity. Amazing things came in handy at the worst possible moments.

"I told you—Steph is out of town. She offered me her place to stay. I come to town once a month to dance at a local club. I don't like being easily recognized by my hair, so I wear a wig. It protects me from perverts like you!"

"Shut your stinking mouth. I'm no pervert. I have a mission."

"What mission? Terrifying and hunting down innocent women?"

He pinched my lips between his fingers. "I'll get the answers here. Tell me the truth. Why the hell do you have a gun?"

He loosened his hold momentarily.

"It's hers. She's a bounty hunter!"

He took the knife and slit the material of my bra between my breasts, nicking my skin. Blood fell in droplets over his hand, which was still holding the knife. Pain and paralyzing fear infiltrated me. He was strong, violent—and totally insane.

Feeling his hand squeeze my breast, I couldn't breathe and began to hyperventilate. My mind flipped back to the horror of the night when I'd almost been raped in high school. I lost all control and became that helpless, innocent teenager all over again.

_I could feel his hands all over my body, while I gasped for air. He was on top of me, allowing his groping fingers to tear my beautiful dress and rip it into tatters. Where was my brother? He had to come and rescue me? God make him stop! My brain gave off an ear piercing scream. I could hear it, but I wasn't sure if it had escaped my mouth._

My mind snapped back to the present when my assailant's voice ground in my ear.

"No one's coming to help you. You're going to be mine—soonnn! You'll pay for making me think you were her!"

I had to get a grip. I wasn't that weak, untrained, unskilled teenager. I was an FBI agent, who had to focus and defend myself against this maniacal monster's attack.

"Let me go you lunatic! It's not me you want. It's her!"

"Shut your trap, you little tramp. You dance? You and me—we're going to have some fun. Just because Stephanie's not here is no reason for me to lose out is it, Red? I like you better in the brown hair. I think you should put it back on, so I can pretend you're someone else."

He propelled my body against the counter, and I let him kiss my neck, as I groped for the damned cookie jar. Grabbing the lid first, I knocked him hard in the cheek, sending him sprawling into the table as I reached for the gun. I held it on him, having NO idea if it was loaded or not. My gut said it wasn't.

"Back off, you twisted Bastard! Drop the knife now!"

He looked from me to the doorway.

"Don't you dare move or I'll shoot!" I cried determinedly. "Drop the goddamned knife!"

He stood stark still, holding the menacing knife like a silver sword. He was going to charge me. I could see it in his eyes—black, hardened, soulless eyes.

"Take the mask off!" I ordered. "I want to see who the hell YOU are before I kill you!"

"This knife is going in you, even if you shoot me. Which will it be, Bitch? Do I get away or do you get whacked too?"

_Shit! The way the gun felt, I MIGHT have one bullet. _

_Then again—I might have none. _

The crazed eyes in the mask narrowed. "That's what I thought. You're deathly afraid of me. Good. I can smell your fear. I like that scent."

Sirens sounded in the distance, growing progressively louder as they approached the building. For the first time, I saw panic in his eyes.

"I could take care of you now, but I like to prolong the anticipation." He began to hedge his way toward the entrance to the kitchen. "Until we meet again, Red. I'm going to love making you dance."

I pulled the trigger but missed his back. My hands were shaking too damned much. There _had_ been one blessed bullet left. The sound of the gun shocked me, as if it had been fired from a long way off. I felt like I'd been put through a torture chamber—my body disjointed and battered. I didn't have a lick of energy left. My legs were trembling, and I had to hold the edge of the counter to keep from falling. I couldn't seem to get any air into my lungs, and I was afraid I might pass out.

Minutes after I heard him make his escape, I jerked self-defensively when the front door swung open, hitting hard against the entrance wall.

Ranger shouted out for me, "Meg where the hell are you?"

"In the kitchen," I croaked weakly.

"Oh my God!" His voice was a choked whisper. "What the hell happened?"

He grabbed a clean dishtowel from the drawer, pressing it to the valley between my breasts to stop the bleeding. His eyes were filled with regret and concern.

**Ranger's POV**

""I never should have let you stay here alone," he breathed in a tortured whisper. "I came as fast as I could. Your security system was off, and we headed back after trying to check in with the surveillance team and got no response. We think he must have created some kind of diversion, for somehow he was able to knock them both out. They're lying on the ground outside."

"He had a taser—" I gasped, "used it on my neck—not fully—charged."

Pulling back her soft waves, I spied the angry, burn marks and immediately wanted to kill the fiend who'd done this with my bare hands.

"The guys in front took off after him. They called it in, but right before I arrived, they reported they'd lost him. I'm so sorry, Cobre. I wasn't fast enough."

"I—should have had him—"Megan gulped, still struggling for air as if she'd run a marathon.

Engulfing her in my arms, I spoke fiercely, "I should have been here to protect you!"

She started to cry. "I thought he was going to ra—kill—me. Sirens—scared him—shot at him. He got away."

"It's all right. Take a deep breath. That's right—just breathe. I'm here. I won't let anyone hurt you."

She tried to calm herself, but her mind was going in a million directions.

"Gun—living room—distracted. He forced me to—turn off the alarm. He escaped. He tried to—Steph—ice cream—distracted—Steph's gun—cookie jar. He took the butcher knife—cut me—almost raped—high school—kissed my neck. We struggled."

She was obviously disoriented and in horrible shock.

She clung to me like a tiny, scared girl. That was not the Meg I knew. Something really traumatic had to have happened to her.

"It's okay. Everything is okay. I'm here now. Usted está seguro cobre mujer, dulce uno de mi corazón quiero cuidar de usted.

"You will?" she asked in a child's voice, desperately wanting to trust my words.

"Yes I will. No one will hurt you ever again. I promise. Let me take care of you."

She nodded quietly, taking one more deep breath. Her body relaxed into mine as she began to let the fear go.

I stood holding her, allowing her feel warm, safe and—God help me—loved. Slowly her heart stopped racing, and I hoped she might be able to speak more coherently.

"Okay—now just tell me what happened."

"I blew it. He was right here. And I—he—"

"Who was it? Did you get a look at him?"

"No! Ski mask. Wicked eyes. God! What's wrong with me? I should have had him dead to rights."

"_Stop it_! Do you hear me? He knocked out two agents! And you're upset you didn't get him? All that matters is that you're okay."

I stroked her hair. My beautiful Meg was safe. Thank God!

"I'm fine."

She pulled away from me, looking down at her naked breasts as if she'd just realized she was bare and bleeding. Her gaze moved up to meet mine, and instantly she was mortified.

I took off my jacket, helping to zip it around her so she wouldn't feel so exposed. Lester chose that moment to pop his head in, clearing his throat to let us know of his presence.

"Anything?" I asked.

"Nope. He was long gone by the time we got here. I'm not sure what he used to knock them out but both agents have huge lumps on their heads. Paramedics just arrived to examine them. He escaped out the bedroom window, as far as I can tell."

"He probably used a taser on them and then hit them in the head with something," I supplied. "I'm taking Meg ho—to Rangeman. You lock up and reset the security. How the hell did he get in here?"

Meg answered, "I think he was in the basement hiding or maybe in the hall—I don't know. I went to get the laundry, and when I came back inside, he was behind me."

"Damn it—I should NEVER have left you here!"

**Meg's POV**

Ranger straightened the collar on his jacket and caressed my cheek slowly. "I'm taking you home."

"I'll be fine at Joe's."

"No you won't. There is no way in hell I'm leaving you anywhere alone tonight. Please—for once—do as I ask."

"I can't leave Bob by himself."

"He's a dog—I think. The jury's still out."

"He's already so damned lonely without Joe and Stephanie. I can't Ranger."

"Are you telling me we have to bring the dog with us?"

"Please? And Rex too. I had Eddie coming by to feed him for Steph, but I'd rather he be with us."

"You have no idea what you're asking. The hamster's not a problem, but the dog?"

"I promise he'll be good. He's a really sweet boy."

"He reminds me of Morelli, and sweet is not a word I'd associate with him."

"He does, doesn't he? He's laid back and comforting too. I never thought of that."

"I was thinking clueless and annoying."

"Is that a yes?"

He let out a longsuffering sigh. "I can't get the man or his damned dog out of my life!"

"You love it, and you know it," I teased, feeling a little more like me.

In truth I wanted the pets for company. It was awkward going to Rangeman to spend the night. But after the evening I'd had, the last thing I wanted was to be alone. Having heard his beautiful words in Spanish, I wondered why he'd said such loving things to me when before he would never even admit he _had_ feelings? He must've been so wrapped up in the moment he hadn't even known he'd said them. What would happen when we were alone in his apartment? Maybe I could sleep in another room somewhere. I'd ask him. For now I needed the strength his mere presence evoked.

We stopped at Joe's to gather Bob, his food, toys and bed and stuffed them into Ranger's Porsche next to Rex's cage. I'd changed into other clothing, throwing all of mine in the garbage. I'd considered taking a shower but hadn't wanted to delay him. Holding Ranger's jacket to my chest, I took a moment to regroup my nerves. After packing an overnight bag, we headed toward Haywood.

I don't think he was too happy to have Bob's fur touching his precious leather. To his credit, he said nothing, keeping his exasperated looks toward me to a minimum.

We entered the seventh floor apartment. Setting Rex's cage on the kitchen counter, I watched as Bob sniffed the entire place, meandering from room to room. Finally he made his choice—staking out Ranger's buttery, black leather couch for his own.

Ranger glared.

Bob growled.

It was a Cuban standoff.

I set up all of Bob's stuff in Ranger's kitchen. Managing to persuade Bob he'd be a lot safer in there, I let him know if he didn't want to be turned into a bathmat, he'd better behave and not eat anything other than his food. After giving Rex a grape and a baby carrot I'd found in the fridge, I left Bob copious amounts of food. He licked my hand, and I told him what a good boy he was. I wanted to crawl into his bed with him.

Where was I supposed to sleep?

"You want some wine or a drink? Ella is bringing down some gauze and bandaging material for that knife wound and the cut on your lip. She's bringing some food too."

"I'm fine. It's nothing."

"The hell you are." He said softly.

His eyes inspected me like a delicate butterfly, and then his mouth curled slightly, as he threw my words back at me. "There's no sin in admitting you need other people."

"It's good to have some company after everything—thanks."

He took charge. Pouring two glasses of wine, he graciously brought me one.

Ella came in with a tray of food and a medical first-aid kit. Speaking softly to Ranger for a moment, she took the kit, heading toward the bathroom. When she reentered the kitchen, Ranger made a silent signal to Ella that she could leave.

Taking my hand, he led me quietly into the bathroom.

"Can you unbutton your shirt for me, Meg?"

"I can do this, Ranger. You don't—"

"I promised I'd take care of you, and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

He waited while I slowly unbuttoned my shirt. Our eyes connected, and I saw nothing but sweet compassion in his. Gently he administered the wound between my breasts. Taking a soft washcloth, he tenderly cleaned the cut on my lip as well. When he saw the bruises on my arms from where I'd been held roughly, his eyes darkened with rage—then guilt.

"I'm so _damned_ sorry. This should never have happened to you."

"I thought he was going to rape me." Tears fell as I told him something he'd never known. "It almost happened in high school. It felt like that all over again. I lost my perspective when he took the knife to my bra. I felt like that helpless teenager again."

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" he wondered softly.

"It wasn't exactly dinner conversation."

"I suppose not. But you should've told me. We were _lovers_. That was something I should've known."

"It was a long time ago."

"Those things come back to trouble you when you least expect it."

I looked down in shame, feeling like I'd never be clean again. "I need a shower. I feel so dirty. His hands were all over me. Do you think—?"

"I'll get your bag. You take as long as you need."

"Thank you, Ranger."

"You don't need to thank me. I _want _to take care of you. I understand how hard it would be to have any man touch you after what you've been through."

I placed my hand gently on his arm. "You're not _any _man."

It was true.

He wasn't like anyone I'd ever loved before. Something inside of me knew he'd never physically harm a hair on my head. Even deeper in my soul—I knew he'd give his life to protect mine.

"I—uh—let me get the water warm for you, and I'll be back with your things."

**Ranger's POV**

I wanted to kill the maniac who'd dared to lay a hand on my—

_My what?_

She wasn't mine.

But that didn't matter. I was going to hunt him down and make him suffer!

I had to get my emotions in check. The last thing Meg needed was for me to come across angry toward her. I didn't want to add to the trauma she'd already endured. If I could've gotten my hands around the rotten kid's neck that'd assaulted her in school, I'd teach him a lesson or two as well.

Taking a deep breath, I picked up her bag and forced softer feelings into my heart. It wasn't hard, because as soon as I thought of Meg's beautiful eyes, my anger disappeared—replaced by a flood of natural affection and attraction toward her.

"Here they are," I announced. "I brought you a Rangeman robe too. It'll keep you warm while you dry off."

"Thank you."

"I'll be right outside if you need anything."

She nodded. I could see her hands shaking as she went to open her bag.

I paced outside the door for twenty minutes. The water was too damned loud to hear anything.

I waited five more minutes.

That was all I could stand before turning the knob quietly. If I could just take a peek and make sure she was okay, then I'd close it again.

She was anything, _but_ okay.

Scrunched on the bottom far corner of the shower, she was crying big, wrenching sobs. The water wasn't even keeping her warm. Her arms were wrapped around her body in self-consolation. _My God!_ I'd never seen her in such a vulnerable state.

Picking up the robe, I walked quietly as I could, turned off the shower and knelt down beside her, murmuring softly, "It's okay sweetheart, I'm here. You're not alone. Trust me—it's Carlos. Can you let me hold you? You need to be held. I promise that's all I want is to comfort you."

She looked up at the sound of my voice, her face and eyes red from crying.

"Why do men always want to hurt me? What did I do? Tell me. _Please_ tell me!"

It was like a kick to the gut.

"You didn't _do _anything, Meg. Here—let me help you up. You need to get warm. You're freezing! Here's that robe. I can help you with it."

"I don't want to hurt anymore, Carlos. It's so hard to always be in pain."

"I know."

"Promise me you won't hurt me anymore."

She looked into my eyes, and I could barely handle seeing the pain hers revealed.

"I don't want to. I promise you, I don't. Come on, Cobre. Let me get you out of here. I extended a hand, and she rose to her feet, her body still trembling with chills.

"Do you trust me?" I asked in barely above a whisper.

"I want to."

"You need to get under warm water to take that cold away. I can help you if you'll let me. I won't harm you or touch you anywhere you don't want me too."

"Okay." She nodded. Her stability felt tenuous. I was worried sick about her.

I turned on the shower, again holding her away from it until it was the right temperature. Fully clothed, I stood there making sure the warm comforting jets showered tepid heat over her body. As soon as I could feel her skin was no longer frigid, I turned the water off and helped her into the robe.

I could feel she was wobbly against me. "Is it okay if I carry you?"

She nodded silently.

Lifting her up into my arms, I carried her to the bed and laid her gently onto the mattress. Her damp, coppery waves splayed across my pillow. Wanting to kiss her pain away, I had to control the urge, reminding myself of her fragility.

"I'll warm up the food for us."

"Carlos, don't leave me."

She sat up gingerly, holding out her hand. I took it in mine, kissing it tenderly.

_Oh God. How was I supposed to be here—next to her all night—without wanting to touch her? _


	34. Chapter 34

**Not my characters. No Profit.**

**Carol your friendship and the caring attention you give my words, each and every chapter is totally mind-boggling. I know you care about this story and the way it is written as much as I do. Thank you, for taking the time out of your busy life to help me so brilliantly, every time. **

**Kimmy your contribution to the last two chapters and your friendship and encouragement are invaluable.**

**Thanks to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I really appreciate your continued support. **

**Hope everyone has a great weekend. **

**Meg Pov**

"Carlos, please, will you hold me?"

My voice was barely above a whisper. I felt so lost. Usually I was able to hold everything together. The weakness that had overcome me tonight wasn't anything like the trained and hardened, 'tougher than nails' FBI agent I'd become. I felt so damned vulnerable. Remembering Ranger's comforting arms, those same arms I'd been bolting from so often lately, made me want to stop running. Right then I needed to feel his strength and calmness encircling me. Harboring such deep love for him, I couldn't deny it any longer.

Every time we'd managed to be this close to one another it had blown up in our faces. I needed him now—to escape the terror I'd revisited tonight. Intuitively, I knew there was love for me in his heart. If _only _he'd admit it.

He'd been so sweet, gently taking care of me. My natural fear of having contact with any male after my ordeal dissipated the moment he'd taken me into his arms. I wanted to escape _with _him. I longed to forget all the turmoil and distance between us. Only he could extinguish the aching inside of me to feel cherished and nurtured_._

"My clothes are damp," he responded with seeming reluctance.

"I don't care. I need your arms around me."

I knew he was trying to be thoughtful by keeping his distance. But feeling safe and secure might never happen again without his touch. There was something about him that felt familiar—like home to me—as though we'd always known one another. When he'd left me years ago, it had felt almost as though I'd lost another piece of myself—just as I'd felt when my son had died.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I need to feel—"

"I have to get this shirt off. I don't want you to get chilled again. Is that okay?"

I nodded gratefully. He dropped his shirt on the bathroom floor and then returned to sit on the bed, opening his arms to me. Leaning into the sanctuary of his broad, muscular, mocha-colored chest, I closed my eyes peacefully, allowing his warmth to envelop me.

Stroking my hair softly, he kissed my head. "Are you hungry?"

"I don't know what to feel anymore."

New tears burned; ready to fall.

"I _want _you to feel safe."

"I want that too."

His hand softly caressed my cheek. "What can I do to help you? Do you need to talk to someone?"

I shook my head. "No, it wouldn't do any good. Not now, while I have to focus on being the target for God knows what. I have to get my head on straight, and find a way to put this and what happened when I was a teenager behind me, once and for all."

I could feel his body going tense against mine. "If I could, I'd stop this whole goddamned mission. I would! I don't think this is good for you, especially now, Meg. I'm sorry I ever brought you into this." His eyes were filled with regret. "If only you'd told me about your past trauma—"

"Are you sorry I came here?"

"No. How could I be? But I don't want to see you get hurt—at all."

"I'll be okay. I'm pretty tough. You know I can kick ass normally. If I'd been myself tonight, I would've sent that pervert into next week."

At least that's what I kept telling myself. I had to! Because nothing inside me felt any of that bravado strength I was supposed to feel. I wondered how I'd ever feel it again.

"Nothing about what happened tonight was normal, and after everything you've already gone through, it was the last thing you needed."

He shook his head. Tilting my chin up with his finger, he expressed further concern, "I think you need a trained professional who can help you with your healing process. I know it's not easy to tell anyone your most private thoughts and feelings, but Meg, you can't do this alone."

I put my hand on his chest. "I don't want you to worry. I promise after this is over; I'll try to uh—find someone I can talk with. I—I thought I'd gotten past it."

Tears flowed easily then, as I felt the pain invading me again. Betrayed as a teenage girl by a boy I'd thought I'd fallen in love with. Heartache from a man I'd chosen to marry, who was supposed to have been my rock and my anchor, but instead had thrown me against a coffee table, virtually murdering our baby son. Tonight facing a madman and seeing the diabolical look in his eyes as he'd slashed my bra. Worse yet, to my horror, he'd threatened to return to finish what he'd started. My body shook as the memories returned with flood-like intensity.

Carlos pulled me closer to him.

"Talk to _me,_ Meg. You can tell me _anything_. I want to help you."

"There's nothing—I'll never be able to escape it. I just want to be rid of all the pain."

My voice became more broken and teary. "You know how crippling it is sometimes?"

I stopped trying to hide my misery as I beseechingly looked into his eyes, letting him see exactly how tired and disillusioned I was.

"I know."

He said it so simply. Instinctively, I knew he'd had firsthand knowledge of it having seen it from the first moment I'd met him. He held deep heartache over something from his past that would never be shared with another living soul. It was ripping him inside out—_every _day.

"We need to cleanse ourselves of our mistakes and regrets, Carlos. We need to feel free again. Don't you feel it too?"

He shook his head morosely resigned. "I'll never be free."

"Yes, you will. _We_ will. We can help one another. We have a common bond of both needing to purge ourselves of the past in order to find a way to live again. I haven't truly been alive in years. A part of me died with my son—"

I paused and looked more deeply into his eyes. "A part of you has died too, although I don't know what or _who_ took that part of you away."

Without breaking my gaze, I confided my deepest feelings. It wasn't easy to admit it to myself—let alone anyone else. And yet I knew Carlos would understand.

Pushing my hair out of my face, I gathered more courage. "I need to feel alive again, so I can find some happiness. I've been in hiding from love, and instead anguish has been a part of my everyday life for too damned long! There's something inside of me that doesn't believe I deserve to be loved or to be whole again. It's in you too."

"That isn't true. _You_ deserve to be happy."

"It isn't the truth for you either. I want to _help _you, Carlos. And I _need_ you to help me erase my doubts."

"How?" he asked dubiously.

"After what'd happened that night, I felt so much fear inside. Usually I could separate myself from fear when on a case, but with my attacker—" I choked on the words. "The evilness in his eyes—his hands groping at my body—"

I couldn't stop the flashflood of tears.

"I want to feel the touch of someone who truly cares about me and understands how lonely and isolated I've felt. _You do._ I _know_ you do. I _can't _be alone _anymore_. I don't _want _to be alone. I thought I did, until I found you again. I've kept my heart frozen on ice for so long, I can barely feel it anymore."

Taking his hand, I placed it over my heart. "Make me feel again, Carlos. You're the _only_ one I trust."

"Why would you trust _me_ after the pain _I've _caused, you?" he asked incredulously.

"You said you loved me once. I _loved _you then with _all_ my heart, and I love you now. I can't fight the truth anymore. I've _always _loved you."

My eyes shone into his, allowing him to see it completely. I'd known before experiencing all my heartache how healing love could be. I wanted us to be well again.

"I feel like I've been in the darkness so long. I don't even know where the light is anymore. Please—help me find it again."

His eyes never left mine. He seemed to be moved by my confession. I waited—hoping.

Cupping my face in his hand, sparks flew instantly between us. We both knew. He was so damned close to me, and yet I wanted him closer. In spite of my terror earlier, I felt the need for his touch coursing through me.

He held so much on the inside, and I wanted so desperately to take away his self-inflicted edict to keep it all hidden. I'd never judge him or his actions. Knowing his heart as I did, whatever sin he'd committed hadn't been done with hatred or malice.

_Why did he continue to lock himself in some kind of punishing hell because of whatever it was? _

Being physically attacked and abused left me feeling shameful and tainted—again. I suspected that whatever was in his past was equally humiliating and taunting for him.

He tore his gaze from mine, looking away. This time, _I _was the one to cup _his_ face, gently drawing him back toward me.

"I—I don't want to traumatize you more or make you feel less than you are. It's _too_ soon," he said, trying to stay aloof. "This isn't right."

"It is. I _need_ you so much, and you need me too. I know you do!"

Pulling his head toward mine, joy infused me when he kissed me back lightly—almost tentatively at first. Light, soft kisses swiftly magnetized our lips, as we returned kiss for kiss, escalating rapidly to feverish sighs and moans. Lip kisses changed to joined tongues waltzing together in movement and pace—both of us wanting more—needing more. His hand cupped the back of my head, and my arms wrapped around him. My hand caressed the hair at the nape of his neck.

"I— ca—can't."

He tried to pull back, and I pressed my lips to his passionately, conveying what I desired. Groaning softly, he gave in to me once more, kissing my neck and collarbone before moving toward my shoulder.

"I _want _you, Carlos."

His lips returned to mine filled with heated purpose.

"You're sure?" he whispered huskily against my lips, as his fingers threaded through my damp hair. His forehead was resting softly against mine. "I can't do this unless you are."

"I am."

"I can't promise you—"

I kissed him more thoroughly, cutting off his reservation. "Do you want me?"

"You have to _ask_?" His eyes glowed with molten desire. "Are you _certain_, Meg?"

I took his hand, kissing it tenderly. "Why are you afraid?"

"I'm _not_," he denied, but I could feel his hesitation.

"Is it because of Stephanie?"

I held my breath.

"No."

"You've slept with her here, haven't you?"

I refused to let the haunting image tarnish my love.

His eyes flickered, guiltily. "Yes."

"In this bed?"

"No. Not _this _bed," he replied honestly.

I had to know. "Do you _still_ love her?"

"I've let her go. She _belongs_ with him. I'm not _in love_ with her anymore. But I won't lie. A part of me will always love her."

I dared to hope. "Will a part of you _always_ love me?"

His eyes burned into mine. "Estarás en mi corazón para siempre."1

"You're in my heart too. Let melove you_,_ Carlos. "You're the _only_ one who can eliminate my fears. Please believe me. I need you to love me if only for onenight."

"One night," he echoed, as his fingers tilted my chin to join our lips.

Gently he parted my robe. I felt his sharp intake of breath as he took in my knife wound and the bruises.

"I don't want to hurt you. You're absolutely beautiful," he murmured.

His hands fondled me so lightly; I could hardly feel his caresses.

"I'm not going to break." I whispered, afraid to break the spell.

His lips kissed my neck tenderly, avoiding my black and blue marks and taser welts. Placing my arms around his neck, I coaxed his body over mine and told him the truth.

"I want this. Make love to me."

His mouth met mine in response. Every dream I'd had of being in his embrace again—of being a part of him once more—was about to come true.

"I can't resist you anymore," he said it as though speaking to himself.

I helped him shed his clothing, while he relieved me of the robe.

"Don't resist," I beckoned him with my eyes. "Love me."

He did so reverently, kissing my bared skin and gently and softly expressing his long held silence. He spoke to me with every breath that lightly danced over my skin. His fingers and lips imparted how much he cherished me and desired nothing more than my happiness. I felt loved, valued and treasured. With every breathtaking moment in his arms, something deep within me came back to life.

I revisited so many beautifully held memories just by touching his naked skin. His lips on my body caused hot and cold shivers to rush through me. _Oh, my God!_ I hadn't truly realized how much I'd missed him.

His mouth played against my thighs. Gripping the hair on the back of his neck, I directed him toward the sacred place that had been on fire for him the moment our gazes had met. I grasped the covers in my fists as orgasmic quakes shook my body. Partially squelched cries erupted as pleasure filled my senses.

"Carlos, I'm missed you so!" I whimpered through the kisses sending me to the edge of reason and coherency.

"I missed you too," he answered hoarsely, relishing the feel of my nails on his bare back.

"I need to feel you inside me," I whispered so softly into his ear. "I want to be with you."

His response was to enter me slowly and gently.

It had been so long.

I cried out passionately, elated at becoming one with him again—finally. Taking his time, he rocked us to heights I'd never forgotten, each thrust bringing me back to the joy I'd felt so long ago with him. I treasured every moment of ecstasy. Panting, babbling words and soft sounds escaped as we rose in ultimate pleasure together. Orgasmic tremors shook us as his loving heat filled me.

Tears of joy fell, even as he brushed them away, while reverberations of ecstasy coursed over me.

"Cobre, was it—are you all right? Did I hurt you?"

Ranger's voice was filled with self-recriminating concern. Still brushing the tears with his thumb, he gave up, kissing my cheeks instead and letting the droplets sprinkle over his face.

"Am I all right? Oh my God! I'm—so—good—I can't—speak," I spoke in jerky breaths, still overcome with sensation. "It was perfect—you're perfect—thank you. I can't believe it finally—happened."

Carlos' lazy, satisfied grin glowed over me. "For someone who can't speak, you talk an awful lot, you know that?"

"You _could_ shut me up again."

"So soon?"

"I want more."

I whispered what I wanted into his ear, kissing and caressing him as though he'd been missing in action and only now returned from a long, lonely siege.

"You're insatiable," he teased, playfully tickling my arm.

"If you'd gone four years without—you'd be too," I confided, so deliriously happy.

I felt completely free and uninhibited at last.

His eyes were dazed. "Mi dios está bromeando."2

"No, I'm not joking. I've wanted you back, ever since you left me. There's been _no one_ else."

"Cobre, you are a rarity. No one?"

"Only you."

"Four _years_ you've waited for _me_?"

"Was it stupid?"

He shook his head. "Tiene más paciencia que todo el mundo que conozco. Usted es un dulce rompecabezas."3

He kissed me then, as though I were a unique gem he'd been searching for his whole life.

We made love again.

It was as if I'd found buried treasure. Having been alone for so long, I laid awake long after he'd fallen into a deep sleep. Tears poured slowly down my cheeks to the pillow.

Turning toward him, I cuddled into him, snuggling close and feeling strangely at peace. His arms reached out for me in his sleep as if he naturally wanted to hold me too. I wondered if we'd turned a page on a chapter that had been held closed for so long.

_Oh, how I'd prayed for this moment! _I wanted it to last more than I'd wanted anything in my life. I'd never stopped loving him.

I knew now I never would.

Waking up out of the blue, the alarm clock by his bed showed only an hour had passed since sleep had finally come. He must have felt the jiggle of the bed, because he awakened too.

"I bet you need something to eat."

He spoke indulgently, smiling sleepily.

"I remember your routine. You'd fall asleep, wake up shortly afterward, and never get back to it unless I fed you." His grin widened as he searched for his robe. "Are you coming or do you want me to bring it to you?"

"I'll come."

Grabbing a shirt out of his closet, I buttoned it quickly and followed him.

Carlos worked quietly while he reheated the bowls of Minestrone, warming up crusty toasted French bread and finding assorted melons and berries—even chocolate pudding as well.

He took my hand and silently led me to the table. Pulling out my chair and seating me, he took the seat closet to me. We shared the meal silently at first. I was afraid to upset the delicate balance we'd reached. Making love with him had been like having a stolen gift returned.

Bob came over to us gradually, a little unsure in his new surroundings. Happily, he helped eat the pieces of pasta I fed him along with a hunk of French bread.

"He eats _our _food too?"

Ranger rolled his eyes, but I knew it was for show. His face was softer and free of worry. He appeared younger and more content than I'd ever seen him.

"They feed him everything. There's nothing he won't eat."

I hoped he thought I was talking about food when I said that.

We finished the meal, cleaning up the kitchen in perfect synchronization.

Smiling tentatively, Carlos said quietly, "You and I should probably talk."

"Can't it wait until morning? I'd _really _like to go back to bed."

"How stupid of me. You must be exhausted after what happened earlier."

I felt elated inside. "What happened earlier invigorated me."

He looked sad for a moment. "I meant _way_ earlier."

"I'm not thinking about that. I feel alive! You don't know how wonderful a feeling it is. I'm not sleepy at all."

He pulled me into his arms. I felt liquid fire coursing through my veins. His kisses were hot and sensuous, leaving me in no doubt that our thoughts were in perfect harmony.

**Ranger's POV**

Sweeping Meg up into my arms, Bob tried to follow, until I snarled at him. Cowering, he stayed put.

"Go back to bed Morel—Dog." I ordered, carrying a chuckling Meg back to our room.

"It's good you're wide awake, because you're not going to get much sleep tonight," I whispered, kissing her voraciously.

She'd torn down all my defenses, and I no longer gave a damn.

Slowly, I unbuttoned her shirt—my shirt. God she was molten sex wearing my clothing.

I spied her bruises again and the burns and strangulation marks on her neck. Anger invaded me like white hot shards of glass for a moment. I had to let it go. Meg couldn't see my fury. If she did, she'd be afraid of me. Looking at her, I could feel my eyes instantly softening.

I tenderly kissed the areas around her wounds. "I'm so sorry, Cobre. If I ever lay eyes on the bastard that did this, he's a dead man."

"I don't want to talk about him. I don't want to talk at all."

"At last," I smiled teasingly.

Conversing in a much more satisfying way, we made love until dawn broke. When we finally fell into a deeply peaceful sleep, it felt as though we were one.

**Steph's POV**

Of course the minute the bedroom doors closed on me, I felt both stupid and guilty.

Marching back over, I opened them to find Joe by the window. His fists were clenched, and he was pacing.

"Talk to me."

"I've been trying too," he snapped, shaking his head. "I think you've got cotton in your ears!"

"Well, I think you have blinders on!" I shot back.

"I'm not the one who can't see clearly here. You didn't even have the decency to tell me this right away!"

"Well excuse me! I thought you were a little busy getting married, then getting arrested to bother you with my wicked plan of tricking you into making me pregnant!"

He huffed in irritation. "I didn't say it was a trick or a wicked plan. I said it wasn't the right time!"

"You're like a broken record, Morelli. What happened to the time when Grandma Bella told us she had a vision that I was pregnant?"

Waving his arms, he said exasperatedly, "What the hell are you talking about? She has visions all the time, _especially_ about you being pregnant!"

"You told her I wasn't pregnant, but 'it would be nice if I was'. Didn't you mean it?"

"Why the hell does that even matter?" His anger was escalating.

"If you wanted it then, I _know_ how much you _really_ want it now."

"If things were normal, yes, I would want it now, but they're not even close," he pointed out, swiping his hand across the back of his neck.

"That wasn't the only time Grandma Bella said I was with child. Do you remember the first time, shortly after we got together? She and your mother came to the house. She had the vision I was pregnant. Do you remember?"

"Yes, vaguely. Why?"

My voice lowered hesitantly. My confession had been a long time coming.

"Because I thought I _was_."

Joe's mouth dropped in shock for the second time that day.

"I even took a pregnancy test."

"Why didn'tyou _tell_ me?" he demanded imploringly.

"It was negative."

I could hardly believe how vividly disappointing it was reliving that moment.

"Cupcake, you weren't upset it was negative back then, were you? We hadn't even been together very long."

I turned away, trying to stop the damn tears.

"Yeah, can you believe it? We'd barely been together, and I _wanted_ that baby. Sure—a part of me was relieved—but another part felt—" My voice broke slightly. "So sad."

"Why didn't you ever _say_ anything to me?"

I looked at him incredulously. "You didn't even have me on the short list to marry. Hell, I wasn't allowed to buy you a cookie jar or new curtains! Why would I risk having you dump me altogether by saying you weren't going to be a daddy after all?"

Shaking my head at the painful memory, I continued, "I couldn't tell you. I was afraid it would scare the shit out of you."

"I wouldn't have dumped you."

"Are you sure, Morelli? You said you didn't want to marry me. I figured if I was pregnant, you'd feel trapped."

He waited a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Being with you—the last word I'd use is trapped. Don't let this get around, Plum, but when I'm with you, I feel more free and more myself than I've ever experienced in my life."

He had to be properly rewarded with lots of kisses for those sweet words.

"You meant it then when you told Grandma Bella it would've been nice if I'd been expecting instead of Val?"

"Yes, I meant it. It would've been wonderful! Shit, look where we'd be now if you _had_ been."

"You see? _That's_ why!"

I _knew_ he wanted a baby. I just had to convince him timing didn't matter.

He nodded, eyes softening. "I know. I _am_ coming back to you, Stephanie. As far as I'm concerned, I have MORE to live for now than ever! I _will_ be back. We'll get married, and then we can have as many kids as you want."

"Why can't you just relax now and leave it up to fate?"

"I've done that way too much. I did that with our relationship and nearly lost you for good."

"You didn't! You won't lose me—ever."

"Well, just so we're completely on the same page, I _really_ want a cookie jar and new curtains," he smirked.

One side of my mouth quirked upward. "Yeah? How long have you wanted them?"

He smiled sheepishly. "Since the first time we made love. I was just too stupid and stubborn to realize it."

"You _can_ be pretty pig-headed," I agreed, trying to remain serious.

"Jesus, can you _ever_ let us have a moment?" he growled, equally as playful.

Laughing lightly, I granted his wish.

"I can. I'd love to place that cookie jar on your counter." Moving closer, I added, "And some curtains on those windows."

"Is that so?" His smile turned sexy. "What else did you have in mind to add to my life?"

"Ummmm. Something _really _good."

"Tell me—what that might be?"

"A woman's touch."

Pulling his body toward mine, I kissed him lightly. He tried to return the affection, but my lips ducked away teasingly several times.

"_My_ touch," I insisted, finding his lips again.

"Perfect. Exactly what I needed."

Holding my body steady, his lips caught mine, turning the feathery light kisses into something delectably definitive.

He raised his head slightly, melted, mocha eyes gleaming, and whispered, "Do you really believe we made a baby _last_ night?"

That gleam gave me hope and the courage to press on. "I do. It was _so_ amazing to be together again—as if we had our opening for a miracle."

"Stephanie, what if we did—and you are?"

Joe looked terribly worried. I could see the lines suddenly deepening around his eyes.

I smiled confidently. "If we did, you will have made me the happiest woman alive."

He rolled his eyes. "I want to be angry with you. It was completely irresponsible!"

Shaking my head, I responded truthfully, "No. It was so much love, Joe. How can creating something so perfect out of what we have together ever be called irresponsible?"

"I wanted to wait. You should've asked me. What about us having the time I asked you for? I want us to have a chance to be newlyweds." He gazed at me seriously. "Does what _I_ want matter to you at all?"

He'd caught me off guard. "You _know_ it does. And normally I'd agree to anything you want—I promise. I want to be more respectful of you than I've been in the past."

"Stephanie, sweet Jesus, this isn't about _that_!" He shook his head, trying to control his irritation.

"Then what _is _it about?"

"It's about me wanting JUST you. We've been apart and going in circles about everything for so damned long. Now we're faced with this possibly torturous separation. Now you want me to come home to you either with a newly born baby or you pregnant, while what I want is _you_!" He stared at me in wonder. "Can't you understand what it means to me to come home to YOU!"

Tears formed in my eyes. "I'm doing it again. I'm ignoring what you need to get what _I_ want."

"Maybe a little—yes," he agreed.

"Inside you're a little disappointed and angry with me, and if I'm pregnant, you'll be even more upset."

"I didn't mean—damn it!" He threw his hands up in frustration. "I don't _want_ to be angry with you. Don't you see? I don't want to be unhappy at _all_ if you're pregnant!"

"Then don't be. Please, Joe—just stop being so freaking worried and have some faith in me!"

"For God's sake—I _do_ have faith in you! I believe in you more than _anyone_."

"Then trust that if there _is_ a tiny baby inside of me growing already, I _can_ handle it." My smile glowed into his eyes.

He exhaled loudly, but his voice softened. "I know you can. I love you so much, Cupcake! I just don't _want_ you to have to 'handle it'—not alone. I can't imagine not being there for you."

"You'll always be there for me. You just said so." I looked at him beseechingly. "Joe, I'm not looking at this through rose colored anything! I promise you. I know this will be like nothing I've ever done before. It'll be like flying without a parachute."

My own voice lowered to a whisper. "But I _want_ it. I'm a woman who adores you. I know how much you love me. I want to make sure the Joseph Morelli lineage doesn't end." Noting his expression, I hastily added, "And I'm not talking that way because I think you're going to die. I promise."

He rubbed my cheek softly. "I'm really going to try NOT to."

"I'd want a baby if you were going to work at the precinct tomorrow, and we were having Pino's and games to look forward to for all eternity. And I want it just as much with you going into prison to put your life on the line for me."

Reaching up to cover his hand with mine, I said, "You're doing _all _of this for me. Let _me_ do something for us. I love you."

"And I love you."

"I've dreamed of this since I was sixteen. When we first made love, I was terrified I was pregnant, but even then there was a part of me that rejoiced knowing if I were, I'd have a part of you with me always."

Noting his doubtful expression, I continued, "When you left for the Navy, as petrified as I was that I might be expecting, I had no doubt about my love for you or our baby."

I made sure his eyes were on mine when I spoke my next words.

"I'd have had the baby."

Joe's expression changed to one of self-recrimination.

"Stephanie, My God! I've been wanting to talk to you about your journal for ages."

He pulled me closer, holding me gently. "If you had been pregnant, I would've come home. All you would've had to do was get word to me, and I'd have come back to you—not only because I had an obligation, but because I had feelings too. I just didn't know how to deal with them when I left you."

Holding his hand, I kissed the knuckles one by one.

"Did you read 'Morelli Moments' all way through?"

**Joe's POV**

"I did—more than once. I'm so sorry for what I did to you. Hearing your voice in my head as I read it, I realized how deeply scarred I left you. I should've called and explained how torn I was over leaving you. But I had no right to expect you to carry on a long distance relationship while in your best years of high school. I didn't want you to miss the dances and the parties—all the fun. I wouldn't have been able to get leave to come home and take you to any of it."

I added uncomfortably, "And selfishly, I couldn't have been faithful to you—not having been so far away for that long at my age."

Steph nodded. "I know you didn't mean to hurt me. I believe you. It's all over with. There's nothing to feel badly about anymore. We've both learned so much."

"We have," I agreed. _How in the hell had I gotten so lucky?_

She blushed. "You really read the journal more than once?"

"Best book I've ever read."

"It didn't have a very happy ending."

"Perhaps it wasn't the ending. Maybe that part hasn't been written yet." I smiled knowingly. "I think your marriage to Dickie was just the cliffhanger to another chapter. A whole lot of book is still unwritten."

"It is." She paused, looking somewhat chagrined but purposeful. "Joe, I understand you want me alone. I want you too, but we'll have time. Even with the baby we'll have so much wonderful 'us' time together, I promise. I understand how you feel. I really do, and if I were twenty-five, I wouldn't be pushing so hard. But I'm not in my twenties anymore, Joe. I'm worried I can't _afford _to keep waiting."

I let out a long, slow breath. "This means that much to you."

"You _know _it does. Tell me you'll help me with my wish."

"I want to _be_ here with you."

"You will be, and if I have the baby before you come back, don't you know we have two families who will love and treasure this child as much as we will? I'll have built-in baby-sitting and relatives galore, spoiling him or her to pieces."

"I hadn't even thought of that!" I admitted, and then I smiled in amusement. "You'd have your hands full just trying to stop them all from going overboard."

"I want this baby more than I've ever wanted anything in my life."

Her voice broke, and my heart thawed and melted. _How could I refuse her anything she desired?_ She never had—nor ever would—need to prove anything to me, but I could see she meant every single word she'd said. Her beautiful eyes were filled with dreams, so much of which were about making all of mine come true.

"Okay," I gave in, because I had to agree that having a part of me live on in her felt life-affirming—almost like a sign of hope. The idea of leaving a son or a daughter to carry on my name and serve as tangible proof our love had existed was impossible to refuse.

"We'll let things happen and not try to control our fates," I announced, and then added hesitantly, "You're _really_ sure?"

Her eyes lit up like I'd just presented her with a zillion birthday cakes. "Very sure."

"Well then, we'd better get started. We have a lot of work to do, and I'm not sure how much time—"

Kisses were being bestowed all over my face, my eyes, my hands, my throat—my everywhere.

"Thank you!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "You have nothing to thank me for. I should be thanking you for this amazing life you want for our family—you, little Morelli and me. Cupcake, you've just made every last dream I've ever had come true. I kissed her, trying to convey in one kiss how much I wanted our marriage, our future children, and her perfect touch for the rest of my life.

**Ranger's POV**

_What in the hell had I done?_

Meg was curled into my body as though she'd been custom made to fit me. We'd made love all night long. Four—long—years she'd been waiting for me. _Was I a monster?_ How had I ever left her the way I had? And now what in the hell was going to happen? I couldn't give her what she wanted now anymore than I could give it to her six years ago.

She stirred, and my heart broke. I was completely torn about whether to take this one step further or not. I wasn't cut out for domestication. I led a dangerous life that would never allow for children. Meg wanted a baby more than anything. Unable to insure their safety, I wasn't about to put a family I loved into danger.

I'd cleaned up my act considerably when I'd allowed thoughts of letting Stephanie into my heart and world permanently. Legitimate business dealings were what I had now for the most part, but occasionally I still took on odd jobs that came up. Those more questionable actions would have the potential of putting my life and those of my loved ones in terrible peril. And yet, my conscience wouldn't allow me to turn those missions down.

I had karmic debts to pay, and I'd realized a long time ago it might take my entire life to make good on them.

Meg's body stirred against mine. Mentally, I had my agenda set, but my heart screamed in angry protest.

"Morning, Carlos," she whispered, kissing my chest softly.

"Morning, Meg." I returned haltingly, darting my eyes away from hers.

I refused to be tempted by her sizzling body. _My God!_ This was going to be torture for us both.

"What's wrong?"

She got up, wincing slightly at the pain I was sure she had to have been feeling after brawling with that lunatic last night.

"Nothing."

"I know you— something's—oh my God!" She put her hand over her lips. "You won't even _look_ at me?"

"That's not true." I forced my eyes to lock with hers.

"You wish it hadn't happened."

Her eyes filled, and I felt like _I _was the evil heartless bastard who'd attacked her.

"I don't wish that. I _can't _wish that," I denied truthfully.

"But?"

Plunging ahead, I admitted, "I'm not sure it should ever happen again."

She threw back the covers, and I knew this was about to become very ugly—not because of her, but totally because of me.

I sat up in bed and tried to grab her hand, but she shook it free, nearly snarling at me.

"Hold on, Meg. Please—can we talk?"

"No!" Her voice was broken and disillusioned.

"You said _one _night!" I reminded, knowing it was the only reason I'd given in to her.

Okay, not the _only_ reason, but it was the one excuse I could tell myself to make it possible to indulge in my love for her.

Yes, I'd loved her before—and I still did.

_Shit!_

I finally have the guts to admit it to myself only to realize it doesn't matter.

"I know I said that," she admitted sadly. "I thought I could be happy just being with you once, but I can't. I want you—always."

"That isn't possible." _God I want you too—always. _

"Why the hell not?"

"It just isn't."

She grabbed the sheet off the bed to cover her nakedness.

"Come back here. We need to talk," I ordered, knowing this wasn't going to end well at all.

"What for? So you can take the knife and twist it again and again," she hissed in torture.

I put my hand out to explain, not wanting to add a single moment of pain to her heart.

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_

"You want a baby," I blurted out harshly.

She turned toward me, eyes downcast. "Yes. You _know_ I do."

"I _can't_ give you one."

Her eyes were impatiently accusing. "What do you mean? You're unable to, or you won't?"

"I'm capable of course. Philosophically, I just can't bring another child into the world. You know what happened when Scrogs took Julie. I would've died if anything had happened to her. I still would! And another child would be at risk as well."

Glaring in frustration, I continued, "It would be completely selfish of me to have another childafter that incident. Not to mention the fact it practically cut my heart out to give up my beautiful girl in the first place. How do you think it's felt all these years to let another man raise her? Everyone who knows about Julie supposes I coldly let her go—that I didn't care. Bullshit! It was because I _do _care so goddamned much_."_

"She knows you love her. You've always visited her," Meg pointed out. "And you're dead wrong—I do understand how much it cost you to give her up."

"I should be _there_! Do you think I don't know it?"

"I know you love her, Carlos."

"I do. I'll protect her at any cost."

"And you'd do the same for our child."

I nodded in agreement. "Yes, I would, but I'm not going to put people I care about at risk ever again. Once was horrible enough. My daughter had to kill a maniac to save _my_ life. She could've been assaulted or killed herself! Never again!"

"Not even for me?"

"_Especially, _not for you. My God—you've lost one child already! Look at how much turmoil and sadness it's caused you. I could never be the reason to have that happen again. How could I ever live with myself? Your love for me would turn to hate."

"I could _never_ hate you."

"You said you hated me earlier tonight!"

"I was lying to protect myself, and you know it!"

"I—I—" I struggled horribly, my emotional need for her threatening to overpower my common sense. "I'm not the man you need, Meg. If I'd known you were waiting for me, I'd have told you not to."

Tears were coursing down her cheeks, and I knew she felt totally unloved and completely rejected. She held on to the sheet, eyes blindly searching over the room.

I felt like a complete bastard.

"Where the hell are my damned clothes?" she asked hoarsely.

Running into the bathroom, she disappeared, and I took a hard deep sigh, grabbing my own clothes and dressing quickly. She came out looking disheveled and half-dressed. Holding her shoes in hand, her expression was frantic.

She was ready to run.

"You don't have to leave," I said quietly. "I don't want things to end this way. We can still enjoy—"

"Enjoy what? Emptiness? Loneliness? No! No!" She pointed at me, her hand shaking in humiliation. "I knew you'd do this to me again! I don't understand you. _I love you_. We made _love_ last night—all night. You _can't _deny it. I saw it in your eyes. I felt you loving me."

"I'm _not_ denying it."

"Then why the hell can't we be together? I want it. You want it. Just say it, Carlos. God! Please just say it!"

My jaw was clenched. "I can't. It isn't because I don't feel it. But you know my life. I can't bring you into it. I'll never be what and who you need."

"No—let's call it what it _really _is. You _could, _but you don't _want _to be. That's the bottom line. No one understands you better. No one could ever love you more. No one HAS ever loved you more."

"I believe that's true."

"Then how the hell can you act as though you have no feelings? How can you stop your love from ever being expressed?"

"I _want _you to be safe and happy. Sometimes you have to give up what you want for something greater."

"That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. What could be greater than us being together and having a family?"

"I am _not_ that man, Meg. I _never _will be. You have to get past me and move on." My voice was firm and unyielding.

"You're so damned afraid," she sneered. "What the _hell _made you so scared of loving and being loved?"

"_Nothing._ You know better. I'm afraid of nothing."

"You're lying." Like always, her green, insightful eyes saw straight through to my soul.

"No. I'm being realistic and sensible."

"No you're not! You've banned your heart and soul from ever finding happiness. You hate yourself for something I'm willing to bet was completely out of your control. You lost someone or something that has scarred you so badly, you can't even entertain the idea of going through it again. What hell was it, Carlos? You can tell me."

"I want you to stop this," I spoke dismissively and without emotion. "You have to let me go. It's over. We're done."

_No one_ was a better master at concealing his feelings than me.

"I can't let you go." Her voice caught on a deep sob. "How can you ask me to do that after last night?"

"I'm not asking you; I'm _telling_ you. It's finished. You got the one night you wanted. I shouldn't have allowed it to happen."

Her green eyes flashed, and she swiped angrily at her tears. "What? No thanks for whoring for you all night? Where's my payment?"

"I don't deserve your contempt. You asked me for last night! I tried to stop it."

"I did," she nodded coldly, her voice wracked in pain and self-hatred filling her eyes. "Without mutual love. God, it was another one of my mistakes. I'm no better than a whore."

"It wasn't without—"

She grabbed onto my words like a talisman. "Without what? _Please, _Carlos, just once. Have the fucking guts to say it to me _one_ time. That's _all _I'm asking."

My voice was nothing but a rasp, as I answered, "If I did, I wouldn't be able to _stop _saying it."

"Damn you!"

"I'm not the man you deserve, Meg."

"That is the biggest crock of shit you've ever said to me!"

She whirled around, eyes slicing through me. "I hope someday when you're on your deathbed and see you have NO one who loves you—when you're a lonely, bitter old man taking his last breath—you'll finally realize what a damned fool you were to have turned your back on a woman who would've loved you like you've never been loved in your life. I would've given you _anything _and _everything_ you ever wanted, Carlos."

"I have no doubt."

"Go to hell! Goodbye, Ranger. Don't worry—it will be business between us from here on out, and when the job is over—NEVER—and I mean NEVER—call or contact me again as long as you live, you heartless bastard!"

She ran out toward the kitchen.

Following after her, I offered her the only thing I could. "I'll have Lester take you and Bob home."

"I don't need or want anything from you!"

"I'm very sorry, Meg."

"You know what? I do—I do HATE you!"

She was sitting on the floor, hugging Bob for comfort when she finally broke down. I couldn't stand there and pretend it wasn't happening. Hearing the excruciating pain as she cried, my heart was jarred.

I didn't _want _her to hate me.

I wanted her love. I wanted all that she offered.

I needed her. I needed that family she would give me.

Feeling the walls closing in on me, I knew if I never said the words out loud, she'd be right—I'd die alone, always wishing I could've had another chance.

This _was _my _last_ chance.

I _needed_ to say the words.

_I loved her. I'd loved her for a very long time. _

I could head to the bedroom and shut the door. She'd be gone, and I'd be able to withdraw into myself again, never experiencing the joy she'd brought me with each touch and kiss we'd shared.

While Stephanie had brought me out of my self-imposed isolation, it was Meg who was my other half.

Believing I didn't have a choice for my life had stifled the essence of who I was. I'd lost my true self by cutting off my feelings, my emotions, my dreams and my needs. I was so damned tired of the self- inflicted punishment and denying myself of all the things I wanted most in life. I'd been such a fool—a damned jackass! It had all been about my fucking need to escape the sins I'd committed.

I'd gone after criminals and mercenaries with a vengeance. Men who were no different than I'd been when I'd made the biggest mistakes of my life. Every time I was successful in seeking justice over them, I'd inflict a little more justice over myself. I imagine if I'd looked into their eyes more closely, I'd have seen my own reflection—my own face.

I could go on seeking revenge in the name of righteousness, but the cause had lost its glory. What had it brought me? Certainly not peace in my heart or someone to warm my bed at night!

If I chose to ignore my heart's desires forever, I could keep up the brave, honorable act indefinitely, pretending someday it might be enough of a life sentence. I could keep paying, or I could let it all go.

To find a way to forgive myself for the past, all I had to do was look into those clearly, adoring green eyes of Meg's, and I'd feel worthy to be loved. I wanted to be released from my demons and become unlimited once more.

The key to my hope was in front of me. She'd said I'd brought her out of the darkness, when in truth; it was she who'd brought me into the light.

My legs began to move in her direction. Going down on my knees, my heart gave in, taking over every sensible, altruistic intention I'd had to let her go.

She looked up at me, copper waves curtaining her sweet, sad face. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. The radiance of her beauty instantaneously filled my soul.

My hands reached out to her.

"I _love _you too, Cobre—with all my heart."

Low, throaty cries escaped her lips.

"You do?" Her soft, unbelieving tone ripped the rest of my walls down to rubble.

"I do. I _love_ you. I need you every bit as much as you need me—probably even _MORE_!"

"You _have_ to mean it, Carlos. Don't say it if you _don't_ mean it. I couldn't handle it," she begged tearfully.

"I _mean_ it."

She looked at me incredulously. "What made you change your mind? A few minutes ago you said—"

"I was a damned fool to think I could walk away from you."

"You sure as hell were," she agreed wholeheartedly, sniffling. Her emerald eyes were moist with guarded hope. "What does this mean for _us_?"

"It means if you don't get back into my arms, I'm going to go crazy."

"We have a future?" she asked, still tenuously inquiring as to what I was offering.

"I want us to try," I conceded. "I'll keep you as safe as I can. I'll give up whatever I have to so you're secure."

"What about a baby?"

"I—I want to be able to give you everything you want, but we need to be sure there are no more threats."

"That's not a no?"

"How can I _ever _say no to you? You just won't take no for an answer."

I couldn't' have stopped the revelation on my face if I'd wanted to. My endless gratitude for that stubborn, 'take-none-of-my-shit' attitude she'd given me was a wonderful gift I'd been afraid to admit I'd wanted.

But somehow she'd gotten through to my soul and my heart. There wasn't a doubt in my mind—she was the only woman who could handle me, and who knew exactly what I needed to feel loved. How could I not be in love with her? She'd brought me to my knees.

Meg's face glowed with unconditional love as she let go of Bob and slowly came to my side, falling to her knees too. We gazed at one another, dropping the defenses we'd both held on to so stubbornly, fully exposing ourselves to the vulnerability of our feelings. As we did, I felt an enormous burden falling quickly off of my back.

"We both deserve to be loved and to be whole. I believe those words when I'm in your arms."

"Oh my God!" she breathed. "Carlos, I love you so much!"

Embracing her at last and allowing the emotions of loving someone and being loved by someone to flow through me freely for the first time in years was a sacred healing.

Meg was back in my arms where she'd always belonged.

"Sólo se puede aligerar mysoul. Te amo con todo mi corazón.4

**Steph's POV**

Instinctively, I knew as Joe and I made love we didn't have a lot of time left. We whispered about the little baby that could be growing inside of me already. Wrapped in one another's arms, we made love with fevered intensity. Having this wonderful purpose, added another layer of beauty to our relationship and a deeper commitment from us both. It was as though our love had become infinite.

As we lay together in the afterglow, we held hands tightly—neither of us ever wanting to let go.

We tried hard to pretend there were years ahead of us—imagining that nothing was coming between us. We dreamed of getting up and leaving the safe house together and moving forward with our lives. We even joked about things and made light of our decision to leave our fates to chance.

Joe laughed, because he said his swimmers were so exhausted they pulled out of the race, while I whispered back that his swimmers were inside me making our baby. He responded by sighing contentedly and kissing me from the tip of my nose to the top of my toes. Apparently, his Olympian athletes had renewed energy, as we made sweetly promising love again.

If we hadn't conceived a child in the last few days, I'd be sadly surprised.

Lying there sated and happy, Joe remarked, "It's kind of nice not worrying if we have enough protection."

"It does make it less like Russian Roulette and easier to fully relax," I agreed.

"You fully relaxed at least ten times," he pointed out woflishly.

I feigned surprise. "Only ten? Do you know they say it's essential the woman has an orgasmic experience in order to conceive."

"I think we filled the essential requirements pretty damned well."

"Yeah, and we had to try different ways of insuring conception too."

"Is that what that was?" His eyes glimmered with new appreciation. "You've been studying."

"Yes, and I think I got an A on the exam."

His fingers moved playfully down my face. "Oh definitely—maybe even an A plus—_if_ we can try that last maneuver again in the morning."

"You seem to be warming up to the idea of being a Dad."

He shrugged. "I worry about my own experience. I didn't exactly have a good example growing up."

"No, but you're already—you'll be the best Dad a child could have."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Bob."

Joe snorted. "God, I miss that big, howling, shoe-devouring monstrosity."

"Me too."

"What about Bob is going to make me a good dad? He's a dog."

"He's a big, oversized, over-zealous kid who eats everything in sight. You're so sweet to him. You bought a different vehicle just so he could be more comfortable. He wrecks all your favorite shoes and annihilates the sports section of the paper before you've even read it. Yet, you treat him like he's a member of the family. If you do that with a dog, don't you suppose you'd be even better with a little human combination of you and me?"

In response, he kissed me several times.

"Maybe I'd be okay at it."

"You're going to be _great_. I can hardly wait see you holding our child. I've seen you with babies in your arms at every family gathering we've been too, and Morelli, you're a natural."

He smiled, his eyes becoming mischievous. "I can hardly wait to see you changing a diaper."

"I've changed plenty of diapers."

"Oh yeah? Name one!"

"Lisa's."

"That was _me, _Cupcake. You stood to the side watching, holding your nose and whining about how it belonged in a toxic waste dump."

"Not every time."

"Yes—every time. You tried one time, remember? You lifted poor Lisa off the changing table. Her diaper was so loose it fell to the floor, and Bob ran off with it. It was the last diaper, and I had to run to the store to get more."

"That was just—uh—those bad, sticky thingamajiggies. They wouldn't adhere."

Joe's eyes shone his amusement.

"Hey! I handed you the powder."

He laughed, shaking his head. "You did at that."

"Oh my God!" Realization dawned, and I lifted my head from the pillow, eyes filled with trepidation. "You think I'm going to suck at being a Mom!"

"No I don't. You're going to be a _wonderful_ mother. I've _always _known that."

"How?"

"Anyone that can take a hamster in, expecting nothing more than a wiggling nose and buggy eyes once or twice a day, and still loving him as though he were a child is going to be the most unconditionally loving mother any kid ever had."

I awarded him for his brilliant deductions with multiple kisses to all of his favorite spots.

"I can hardly wait to see you with a baby." He was clearly already picturing it.

We shared a happy smile, but his beautiful brown eyes suddenly turned gloomy.

"Stephanie, I don't want to make you sad, but if this happens, and I'm not able to be there, please tell him or her how _much_ I love them."

He hesitated, kissing my eyelids. "We have to say whatever needs to be said. I don't want to regret anything."

I nodded silently, my throat choking, as moisture swished out of my tear ducts. It was so hard to comprehend, but he was right.

"If I don't make it back, you'll make sure he or she _knows_—"

"The baby _will _know. I promise you, Morelli, he or she will know you and love you, and we'll be there when you come home no matter how long it takes."

"If I don't come home—"

I looked him in the eyes, tears falling. "If you don't—the baby will know he or she had the best father in the world, who was willing to give up his life to protect us."

I could barely force the words out. My throat hurt with the effort to maintain my composure.

"Thank you. Make sure he knows how much I loved his mother too." He brushed my tears with his fingers.

I tried to smile. "He?"

"Or she," Joe amended, kissing me sweetly again.

"You're coming home, Joe. I feel it in my bones. You'll be _there_."

"I promise I'll do _everything _in my power to make that happen."

**Joe's POV**

I gave Stephanie's needs a lot of thought before I fell asleep. _What if it hadn't happened?_ I couldn't bear the thought of her sorrowful face looking at a damned testing stick all alone; only to find out it wasn't to be. I had to think of _something_ that would ensure her safety, keep her busy, and take away the heartache she'd be going through daily if she didn't get that dream of ours just yet.

And if she _was _pregnant, I didn't want her doing _anything_ to endanger herself or our child. Having her out there skip tracing with a lunatic gunning for her was unacceptable. We needed to have one more crucial talk before we ran out of time.

I smiled as the perfect solution came to me. Why in hell hadn't I come up with it long ago?

I couldn't wait to get the clearance I needed. Hopefully, I'd have great news for Stephanie before tomorrow ended.

**Steph's POV**

Joe greeted me with breakfast in bed the following morning, and I smiled appreciatively at both the breakfast and the love shimmering in his eyes.

"I need to talk to you about something very important," he began.

"Okay, but you should wait until I have that coffee. I might snarl and claw at you if you try anything before that."

"True. Probably you should save _that_ behavior for later tonight," he suggested helpfully, one eyebrow cocked playfully.

"Or maybe after breakfast?" _Who needed coffee to perk you up when Joe Morelli was around?_

He nodded promisingly. "Maybe, but first things first. I'll talk. You drink and listen, okay?"

"I'm all ears."

He took a deep breath. "I want you to be safe while I'm gone and well taken care of."

"I know," I said gulping down the coffee.

He fed me a piece of cinnamon toast, taking a bite for himself as well.

"There's a stalker on the loose after you. We don't know who he is, or what he wants. We don't even know if he'sassociated in any way to what's going on with those prison burner phones we found."

"True."

"I promise I'm not trying to tell you what to do or take over your life. I'm not ordering you to do as I ask. But I am hoping you'll see I'm asking the following because I love you more than anything. I _need_ to know you're safe, while I'm not around to help protect you."

I could see he was nervous. "I'm listening. Tell me what you need."

"I want you to give up the idea of skip tracing for the entire time I'm gone."

_What? _"How can I? It's how I make my living," I protested half-heartedly.

"Are you saying you'd be willing to do it if it weren't for the income you rely on to pay your bills?"

"I'm not really enjoying it like I was in the beginning," I admitted.

"You're not?" He sounded shocked.

"No. And do you want to know why?"

"Of course." He forked up some egg to feed me, and I chewed thoughtfully for a moment.

"It was fun at first, because all my important cases somehow collided with yours. We were always discussing them, figuring everything out and coming up with solutions and strategies together. It was exhilarating, because I got to spend so much time with you. I miss that. I'm kind of tired of falling into garbage and all the crazies coming after me and endangering all the people I love. I've been hoping to come up with something else I'm good at that is my passion."

His eyes held a secret smile, and I wondered what was going on in that irresistibly curly head of his?

"I can think of some_thing_ that'd come up for you any time you feel passion. Would that help?"

"Yes."

I smiled intimately into his liquefied chocolate eyes. "You know that's not what I meant though."

"I know, but I have an idea and a plan. I can only give you part of it now, but I promise before the end of the day, I'll tell you the rest. But you have to promise you'll listen all the way before you say anything."

"Like you did yesterday?" I couldn't resist giving him trouble.

"Hey, I said yes in the end!"

"Yeah, you did."

I beamed at him over our secret project. We'd made a pact to keep it just between us for as long as possible—whether we were successful or not.

"Okay, I promise I'll listen."

He smiled in relief. Taking my hand in his, he spoke softly. "I want to help you with your rent and all your expenses while I'm away. Mooch has my power of attorney and access to my checking account."

I opened my mouth to protest, but the pleading look in his eyes made me shut it and let him have his say.

"He'll be taking care of my bill paying while I'm in prison. I want you to take what's left. Michaels agreed to pay me differently while I'm inside. No one can know I'm even getting paid—not even the accountants. So he came up with a way to have the money directly deposited without any paper trail. It will look good to have funds going in and out of my accounts anyway, as if I'm making deals already in prison. Mooch has instructions to see that you get part of the money. There's _plenty _for both of us, I promise."

"No. Joe, I can't do that to you."

"You're going to be my _wife_. I think you can share some of _our _money."

"But I'm used to being independent."

He snorted. "Tell me something I don't know!"

Shaking his head, he smiled persuasively. "Stephanie, if you're pregnant, you can't do the skip tracing. It's as simple as that. The last thing I can have on my mind is you and our child being at any more risk than you already are. That coupled with the fact a nutcase is looking to hurt you makes it a hundred times more dangerous than it already is. _Please_ be sensible. I'm _serious_ about this. If you want me to do the best job I can in prison, kick ass and come home to you, I need to know you are safe, and cared for. Let me take care of you the way I've _always _wanted to."

I struggled with his request. My natural obstinacy fought with my desire to make him happy. He'd done the same for me yesterday. I owed him after so much selfishness over the years.

"Alright, I'll do as you ask, because I _do_ want you to come home, and I don't want to be the cause of any distractions for you. You've always taken _beautiful _care of me, Joe. The last thing I want is to make anything harder for you."

"Not _anything_ harder?" He surely loved making me blush.

"Well maybe ONE thing is okay—but _nothing _else. I don't want you to worry about me, and I'll do whatever it takes to give you undivided concentration. I want you home—_yesterday_."

"You don't know how much that means to me."

"I think I do."

We kissed passionately. If the damn phone hadn't rung, we'd have had another blissful baby-making session.

Joe mouthed it was Michaels calling.

I heard him talking in hushed tones, while I washed the breakfast dishes.

He was gone for quite a few minutes, taking the call in the bedroom. That couldn't be good, since we had nothing to hide from one another.

The longer the call went lasted the more my stomach began to ache. The moment I heard his conversation end abruptly, I had a sense of foreboding.

He walked back into the kitchen. His expression was pure cop mode.

"What did he want?" I asked, trying for normalcy and failing miserably.

"I had called him earlier. He was returning my call." Joe's entire demeanor had changed as well.

"Something's wrong. What is it? Tell me you're not—"

I knew before he even said it.

"Yeah. I'm going in late tonight."

1 You'll be in my heart forever.

2 _My God, you are joking._

3 _How could you have waited so long? You are a sweet puzzle._

4 _Only you could lighten my soul. I love you with all of my heart_.


	35. Chapter 35

Not my characters. No Profit.

Carol I am so glad I had the guts to approach you with that first email! I can't tell you how much our friendship means to me. You are truly an inspiration and a joy to have as a friend. Thank you for your mad beta skills. There is NO one more talented!

Kimmy I am so lucky to have found an honest, sweet friend like you. Thank you for always being there for me, to help me when I need you the most! And boy did I need you two this time!

Thank you to all the readers who are still with me! I never expected this to be such a long story. I am so appreciative of all the support and wonderfully comprehensive reviews.

After this chapter, there will be a hopefully, short intermission. I have to gather my characters together for the prison scenes and I want to make sure I do them all justice. Prison is new to me, thank goodness! So please stick with me and I'll try to get more chapters out soon.

Chapter 35

**Steph's Pov**

I wanted to believe I hadn't heard Joe right, because if I had, he'd said the words I _never_ wanted to hear.

_Tonight._

He was going into prison.

_Tonight._

Less than twenty-four hours and he'd be gone—possibly forever. My eyes stung with tears I valiantly tried to swallow.

_Oh God!_

It's not like I hadn't known it was coming. _We_ had known it was. But I'd foolishly thought maybe in another day or two or—with any luck—a week from then. No way in hell was I ready. How did one prepare to say good-bye to your other half wondering if you'd even be able to breathe without them around?

"Cupcake, are you okay? I know we were hoping for a little more time."

Joe's soft voice was close. His comforting hand was on my shoulder. Somehow I had to shake myself out of this panic attack I felt streaking through me.

"I—I yeah. I just—I'm a little surprised. I mean—I thought it would take a while to get the FBI replacement in place for the one who was stabbed while posing as a guard."

"Oh—well they already have a replacement apparently, an undercover operative posing as the warden's assistant this time. He'll have access to more pertinent information we may need. He'll be in less danger, because he won't be around the general population, which is good."

"For _him_ maybe, but what about _you_, Tank, Cal and Hector?" I felt like an over-protective mother hen watching out for her baby roosters.

"We'll be fine. I don't want you stressing over this. You need to concentrate on you and our future—maybe even a baby, okay?" His eyebrows arched expectantly, as his mouth tipped up at the corners.

He was forcing that smile for me.

"Don't ask me not to worry about you, Joe. I could _never_ promise you that. I'll be counting the days until you come back to me."

"I'll be counting too. Without you, whose going to keep my ego in check every day?" he teased.

"True. You _do_ need me to keep your hat size within reason," I remarked dryly.

He grinned. "I need you to keep other parts of me the right size too."

"I'm going to miss _all _the parts of you." My eyes burned with unshed tears.

_Damn it! _

_I had two choices. _

I could be the blubbering, damsel in distress, tied-to-the-railroad-tracks-screaming-help-at-the-top-of-her-lungs kind of woman OR I could be like a beautiful, courageous heroine in a romantic novel. For Joe's sake, I had to choose the second option. The last thing he needed was me to be a sniveling, weak cry baby. He needed my strength now more than ever.

His forehead met mine while he gently held me in a reassuring embrace.

"I'm going to miss every part of you too. I don't want to leave you at all—ever again," he admitted, blowing out his frustration.

I got angry then.

Angry that the damned bastards in prison couldn't just serve out their sentences without continuing their lives of evil criminal behavior—practically fuming that so many innocent people's lives were being screwed into something unrecognizable because of them. I was even more livid that some of them might actually be threatening me from their prison cells. One of those assholes was roaming the streets of Trenton, insanely free and out to get me. Most of all I was enraged MY man was the one who was expected to sacrifice _everything_ to hunt down all the losers in order to insure my protection and that of our community.

Damn it! It wasn't fair! We finally had the relationship we'd always dreamed of! We were on solid ground at last. And now we had to say goodbye—again. If I thought it had been hard over the phone, in person was going to be even more fucking unbearable. I never wanted to let him go!

"Tell me what you're thinking," he urged, tipping my chin so he could look into my eyes.

I took a deep breath, desperately willing away the weakness I wanted to give into. I couldn't let Joe see it. But I wasn't prepared to lie either.

"I—I'm sorry. I know you have to go." My fists clenched against his chest. "It's just—this _sucks_. I can't help it! It totally sucks!" I repeated, at loss for a better word.

He nodded morosely. "It _does_."

"You know why it sucks?"

Pulling me closer, he implored, "I think so, but tell me anyway."

My body drank in his embrace.

_God!_

Feeling his firm muscular warmth against me was like having a comforting and secure bubble of protection.

"Because I feel like we've _never_ been this closebefore. We've always held back our feelings from each other, and now all the barriers are gone. I _know _if we could walk out of here together, it would be to a totally permanent and happy life. I just want us to move forward so much, but we can't, and it pisses me off!"

His hold tightened even further. "_I know._"

His simple agreement broke my heart.

My hand slipped up his warm, forest-green, Henley-clad back to the curls at the nape of his neck. "God, I love you!"

My lips sought his, looking for a deeper assurance of his proximity to me. I couldn't imagine how empty my arms would feel after he left them later that evening.

"I love you too."

His fingers cradled my head, returning the kisses. "It's going to be okay. We have to believe this is just another temporary setback, Steph. When I come home, we're going to have that life we both want. I promise."

"You can bet your 'best ass in Trenton' we are."

"Why do you always limit it to Trenton?"

"Of course I meant the world." I smiled, capitulating much more easily than usual.

"What about the _universe_?" he admonished with a grin.

"You never give up!"

I shook my head at his smartass demeanor. _God, was I going to miss him every freaking day!_

"I'm sure as hell not giving up now. I just need you to give me a little dose of that courage and tenacity you've always maintained, and I'll be ready to make those assholes wish they'd never been born."

"And then we get our lives back?"

"Absolutely—and when that happens, we're not going to waste ONE more goddamned minute."

"I'm holding you to that, Morelli."

"Good. I want you to."

His phone rang.

He pulled away, and I could already feel the cold emptiness beginning to loom. I felt like curling into a ball of denial. Mouthing he'd be back, he took the call out on the terrace. I forced myself to concentrate on straightening up the living room, which was already in pristine condition—all the while continuing to shut down the strong urge to cry.

**Joe's POV. **

"Hello."

"Morelli."

"Manoso. So you know?"

"Know what?" he questioned in his usual clipped manner.

"That I'm going in tonight? Didn't Michaels call you?"

"No. But uh—I had my phone off, and I haven't listened to my messages."

"Your phone's off?" I questioned, never knowing that to have happened before.

"Yes. You got a problem with that?"

"No, it's just you're always—never mind! Why the hell are you calling then?"

Suddenly, I remembered I was still pretty pissed at him for having let me falsely think I was married to Kate.

_Stupid, torturing nimrod!_

"I'm calling to let you know, Stephanie's stalker is still on the loose, and now he's gunning for Meg too."

"What the hell? Why Kate—I mean Meg—too?"

"Because unbeknownst to me, she got clearance from the big brass at the FBI to impersonate Stephanie by hanging out at her apartment. She was hoping to lure the deranged maniac to _her_."

"What happened?" I could tell from Manoso's barely controlled tone something _had_ indeed gone wrong.

"I found out."

"And?"

"We had words."

"Words?"

Manoso sighed.

"I agreed to the plan and offered my protection. The sting was set for tonight. I left her at Steph's with FBI detail out in the front parking lot. Meg went down to the laundry room in the basement. Somehow the bastard had already snuck into the building. When she came back to the apartment, he was right behind her. She had no weapon, and he tasered her. He also incapacitated the two agents in the lot. The detail out front didn't even know anything was amiss. We picked up on our surveillance that Stephanie's security system had been shut down and knew something had to be wrong. We rushed there as fast as we could but not soon enough."

"Shit! Is she okay?" I asked, closing my eyes. More trauma was the last thing Kate needed in her life.

"No. He used same M.O. as he did on Stephanie and became furious when he found out he had the wrong woman. He gave her a light tasering, ripped her clothing, and gave her bruises and a knife wound when he cut her bra in two. He forced her into the kitchen to get the knife. Luckily, Meg remembered you telling her about Stephanie's weird cookie jar hiding place. She was able to get the gun to stave him off."

"What happened to _her_ gun?"

Fury invaded me at the thought of that evil creep possibly having touched my Stephanie again! It gave me even more resolve to stop the lunacy in prison and get this guy, even if it took my last breath to do it.

"He kicked it out of her reach and into the living room."

"Shit!"

"They had a standoff, and he got away. Meg wasn't sure if the gun was loaded. He was about to charge at her with the knife when sirens approached the building and sent him running like the scared, maniacal shit he is. FBI tried to follow, but he was too fast, dodging in and out of alleys. The lazy ass Feds didn't even get out of the car and chase him on foot! They lost him."

"Any evidence found at the scene?"

"None. No prints. He wore a fucking mask again. The only difference from Steph's report was his eye color. During her attack, Steph said they were grey. Meg says brown. He must put in colored contacts. Nothing left at the scene."

"Is Meg in the hospital?"

I thought back to Stephanie lying in that bed, remembering her bruised face and how vulnerable she'd been—so battered and weakened by that insane bastard. I had to clench my fist, as my heart lurched all over again thinking about Kate in a similar state. She'd endured too much pain already.

"No, she's here with me at Rangeman."

"With you?"

"Yes with me. You got a problem with that?"

"No—I mean yes! You need to know she was nearly raped before, Manoso—back when she was a teenager. She may need some psychological support to get through this."

"_You _know about that?" His voice sounded strangely jealous, but I knew I had to be mistaken. Jealousy was an emotion, and Ranger never allowed those.

"Why are you surprised she'd tell me? She _was_ my wife, or so I thought for a time, thanks to you."

"She confided in you?"

I _hadn't _imagined the envy in his voice, which stoked my curiosity.

"We had time to talk. She told me pretty much everything about her past." I left off the words 'even about you'. He'd get my drift without them.

I didn't want to see Kate hurt anymore, realizing she'd made amends to me—and then some. I considered her a friend again and was pretty damned certain it'd been her idea for Steph and me to have our time together.

Feeling brotherly protectiveness toward her, I gave a firm warning. "You need to handle her gently. Manoso. She's fragile because of her past."

"I don't need _you_ to tell me how to handleMeg!"

"Really?" I snorted derisively. "Not from what I've heard. You sure as hell didn't treat her very well four years ago!" I couldn't prevent the judgment in my voice.

"You know _nothing_ about it! I suggest you keep your nose out of _my _business."

"The way you kept yours out of _my _relationship with Stephanie?"

"Okay, Morelli—you want to have a pissing match? Fine! I poached on your territory. I tried everything, and guess what? NONE of it worked. She _loves_ you. I get it. You were the idiot who let her anywhere near me in the first place, so you've only yourself to blame. But for what it's worth, I know now I shouldn't have wasted my time. Trying to steal her from you was a big mistake. Not that I regret my time with her, but it wasn't fair of me."

He paused long enough for his words to sink in before adding devilishly, "Even if it _was _like taking candy from a baby."

Did that ignorant jackass ever know when to quit when he was ahead? For a second there, I'd thought he might actually say he was sorry. God forbid _Batman_ would ever feel the need to apologize!

"You just see to it that Kate doesn't get hurt anymore," I said grimly, ignoring his stupidity.

There was no question I owed Manoso for the sacrifice of his men in prison, and I had no doubt he'd been in on the plan to give Steph and me_ our_ time. But, in the same token, he'd done _such _a number on our relationship. While forgiveness might happen someday, forgetting was doubtful at best.

"I'm taking care of _Meg_. You don't need to worry. Of course I'm having to deal with that monster of yours too," he grumbled.

"What monster?"

"Blob."

"Bob? You have Bob?" I asked, putting two fingers to my suddenly aching forehead.

It was hard trying to imagine my dog anywhere near Ranger.

_Poor Bob!_

"I just said I did, didn't I?" He groused, obviously not too happy.

"How did he end up with you?"

"Meg is guarding him like the crown jewels. Apparently, she has some weird idea the mongrel is actually missing you and Stephanie. Oh—and let Stephanie know the rodent is here too."

"You've got Rex?" I questioned bemusedly, trying not to laugh.

I couldn't begin to picture Ranger with _one_ animal let alone our two furry, family members.

"I'm not saying it again, Morelli." He fumed. "Meg thought they both needed to be here. Why? I don't know."

"Thank her for me, and tell her I really appreciate what she's doing for us," I offered sincerely, and then added, "I hope to God you're treating her decently. She doesn't deserve more heartache."

He growled in frustration, and then said in a resigned breath, "I _know _about what happened to her in high school. I'm keeping Meg here safe and secure, until you've been inside for a week or two. We'll spread the word that poor Kate Morelli had to flee town because her husband's imprisonment was just too humiliating. She'll reappear once we know you're being courted by the criminal elements. That'll give her time to recover from her attack."

"Good. Keep her out of that lunatic's sight."

_Then it hit me. _

_Fuck!_

Stephanie couldn't possibly go back to her apartment—or anywhere else for that matter. She no longer had the guarantee of safety _any_ place she went—not her parents—not anywhere—without putting herself and other innocent people in danger.

That left only one place she could go.

_Double Fuck! _

I loved her. That was the bottom line. I'd do anything I had to do to see she was properly protected and cared for in my absence.

"Steph can't go back to her apartment."

"What?"

"I _don't_ want to leave her alone anywhere. She could maybe stay here at the safe house, but she'd need 24/7 security detail."

"If I had _all _my men, I could offer that, but right now, it's impossible," Ranger answered flatly.

I took a deep, sustaining breath.

_Goddamn it!_

I had to bite the fucking bullet. There was no other option.

"The only place for her is with you. She'll be safe at Rangeman," I suggested resignedly.

"Are you sure?"

"You got a better idea? You'll make sure she's kept from harm?

"You know I will. Ella can get an apartment ready for her on the fifth floor."

"Ah shit! She and Kate _hate _each other."

"_Meg's_ not on the fifth floor."

I felt oddly curious. "Where is she?"

"Not on the fifth floor," he repeated stonily. "Though I can't guarantee they won't run into each other at some point."

"Can _you _handle that?" I asked, slightly amused.

"I've handled war in third world countries," he shot back, albeit a little doubtfully.

"That doesn't answer my question?"

I unsuccessfully tried to stifle the guffawing laughter that escaped.

"You think this is funny, Morelli? Well, allow me to remind you that paybacks are a bitch."

I snickered a little more at the thought of him caught between two feistier-than-shit, couldn't-stand-the sight-of-each-other-women. Then I had a sobering thought.

"By the way—listen closely, Manoso. You so much as flirt or lay a finger on Steph, and I'll be the one with a vendetta."

"I told you my poaching days are over. Of course—Steph _could_ find me irresistible once she forgets all about you," he baited.

"Very funny."

He laughed loud and long then. "Relax—she's _all _yours. I'm only a friend—a fact she's made abundantly clear."

I smiled, knowing Steph and I had reached a deeper trust than ever before.

"I know. It wasn't _her _trustworthiness I doubted."

"I'll have someone be there when you leave to bring her to Rangeman."

"_You _need to be there for her. She's going to need a friend."

"Are you sure you want _me_?" His tone was incredulous.

"Don't make me ask twice."

"I'll be there."

Exhaling loudly, I offered, "Thanks."

"Morelli?"

"Yeah? What?"

"Kick ass and get my men back to me."

"I'll do my best."

**Meg's POV**

Carlos had been gone for a while, attending to business. In the meantime, Ella had gone to Joe's and brought back most of my things. I had fun moving all of his stuff over to make room for my clothing. He'd told me to make myself at home, so I did. I kept wondering, however, if 'Mr. Perfect Order' would have second thoughts after giving me such free rein.

I felt a burning itching on my back. Shit, that was like the fourth time in less than an hour. _Did his apartment have bugs?_

"So are you all unpacked?"

Carlos appeared out of nowhere, leaning against the doorway. His arms were folded in a self-satisfied way, and his mouth was perked up at the corners. His youthful countenance from the previous night remained on his face and was made even softer by the secret, sexy glint in his eyes.

_He loved me._

I could hardly believe I was still there, practically moving in with him. However, it was only temporary. I still had to go back to Joe's house on Slater to fulfill my part of the operation. But being with Carlos so intimately, planning a future with the man who long ago had taken my heart forever was a total miracle.

"I am unpacked. Hope you can find all your stuff. I had to move things around a bit."

_Damn! There it was again—a pricking feeling on my backside, followed by heat and a constant, annoying itching._

"Oh, you did—did you?"

He moved to my side in two strides, taking me into his arms and planting a soft kiss on my forehead.

"At least I have you around to show me where it all went."

"It's still there—just more crowded by my things."

He opened the drawers to take a peek, and I noticed the look of trepidation on his face.

"You're not having second thoughts about me staying here with you, are you?"

"What?" He looked up trying to hide the guilt. "No, uh—of course not."

"I know you're used to being independent." I pushed a little more, feeling a sense of foreboding. _Was he having regrets about having confessed his love for me?_

"I am. You're going to need to give me time to adjust."

He backed away from the drawers, shutting them soundly.

"_Okay_…how much time?"

"If I knew, Meg—"

He stopped suddenly, his eyes glittering passionately as I moved closer to him.

"I'm doing the best I can. But I promise you; I meant what I said last night."

"Tell me again," I whispered into his ear.

"I love you, Cobre."

Tears filled my eyes. Not only had he said it—but also it'd come without hesitation. His eyes had said it, his lips had spoken it, and his hands were now exuding it with every touch.

"I love you too."

We sealed our pledge with several arousing kisses. Then, to my utter disappointment, he pulled away.

His eyes darted away from mine. "We need to talk about something."

"What's wrong?" I asked immediately, sensing it was serious.

"Morelli is going in late tonight."

"Already?"

I felt instantly guilty for _our_ happiness. Joe and Stephanie had hardly gotten any time together.

"Damn it! I was hoping they'd have at least a week—"

"You're pretty sweet, you know that?" Carlos allowed himself to almost fully smile at me, and pride was evident in his eyes.

Warmth spread from the tips of my toes to the top of my head—along with an awful burst of itchy heat on my back.

"I'm working on it," I said casually, trying like hell to ignore my skin's tenderness.

"I know you are. That's what I need to talk to you about. There's no easy way to say this. Morelli doesn't want Steph to go back to her apartment. He was upset when I told him about your attack." He paused and added somewhat sardonically, "It seems he's appointed himself as your protector."

"He has?"

I couldn't help but smile, feeling as though I was his and Stephanie's guardian too. To hear he had my safety as a concern as well meant he'd made progress toward forgiving me.

Carlos droned on about what that meant for Stephanie, and how she couldn't be alone at her apartment. _Like I didn't already know?_ Only a part of me paid attention while he spoke. The rest of my mind was filled with discomfort and the possible cause of it.

_What was with this damned itching? Did Carlos have bed bugs? _

I'd read the creatures were showing up more frequently in the eastern states. Oh Jeez—how could I bring up my rash or whatever it was? How in the hell could I tell him I might be allergic to him or his bed or—worse yet—that he lived in an apartment full of bugs—and NOT the surveillance kind! He'd be mortified. Cleanliness was tantamount to him.

_But wouldn't he have bites too?_

Maybe the damned insects preferred red heads!

I forced myself to think rationally. I had to tell him. How could I keep something like this a secret? Plus, it would be good to see how he dealt with a normal, everyday crisis. God knows he'd been handling far worse for many years.

"Meg, what the hell's going on you? You seem a million miles away."

"I'm here—right here. It's so sweet of Joe to be worried about me."

"Don't look so happy about Morelli's concern." he said somewhat grouchily—which made him pretty adorable. "I'm the only one who is supposed to have your back."

"I really don't think you'd want my back right now," I fretted, finally allowing him see there was definitely something dividing my attention.

His discerning eyes bore into mine. "What are you talking about?"

"I have—something—and whatever it is—it's eating me alive!"

"What the hell?"

He took two steps forward, while I turned my back to him and raised my shirt for examination.

"Meg, your skin is turning red. It looks like hives."

"It is?"

I gratefully gave up the useless pretense, because it was getting harder to conceal the fact it felt like a thousand fire ants were eating me alive at once.

Throwing my hands up in surrender, I exclaimed, "I've been going crazy trying to hide it from you!"

"Is that why you've been distracted? No wonder! Some of those movements you were making weren't actually trying to turn me on, were they."

"Not exactly."

I blew out my frustration. My face was heating up in humiliation—or—oh no—more hives!

"You looked like you had some kind of uncontrollable tick running through your entire body. Were you even listening to a word I said?"

I gave him a scathing look. "Did I not hear your ex-lover is coming here to stay indefinitely? Yes, I did. Did I hear she may hate my guts? Yes, Carlos, I know! But I have friggin' bigger problems at the moment!"

"I agree. Your face is starting to break out too." He couldn't hide his anxiety. "Why in the hell didn't you say something sooner?"

"I was afraid. I thought—maybe you had bedbugs! I didn't want to embarrass you!"

"I don't have bedbugs! This place is spotless. Ella steam cleans everything!" he denied hotly. "You must be allergic to something. What have you had that—? Oh my God," he said under his breath after lifting my shirt higher to inspect the top of my back."

"What is it?"

I tried to control the anxiety attack I was about to have. Here I'd finally landed the man of my dreams, only to find myself swelling into an unrecognizable bunch of bubbling, oozing blisters. _Wasn't it bad enough I was already bruised, bandaged and sporting a split lip? _

"Did you eat something you're allergic too? Your entire back is covered in hives. It looks like raw hamburger," he observed in concern as his hand gently inspected my back.

"What's happening to me?" I fairly shrieked.

"I don't know. Have you ever had something like this before?"

"No," I answered, racking my brain.

"What the hell is causing this?" He was every bit as clueless as I was. "Wait a minute—what about the two mongrels in the kitchen? Maybe it's one or both of them?" he suggested hopefully.

"No. I've been with Bob for weeks, and besides my family had pets my whole childhood—every animal under the sun. It's not them!"

"Okay—well I can assure you it's nothing here in my apartment. Ella's the best at what she does."

"Then I have no idea then what's caused it. I haven't eaten anything different. I don't normally have allergies—"

I had a sudden flashback to my childhood.

"What? Did you think of something it might be?" Carlos asked in a rush, worry clearly evident in his eyes. "Maybe we should get you to the hospital—"

"Oh My God!"

My hand went over my mouth. "I took that shower with you earlier this morning. We used your shower gel. I used to be allergic to some soaps as a child. My mother used to have to rub Calamine lotion on me."

"Bulgari? You're allergic to it? Jesus! I had no idea, otherwise I'd never have used it on you." He seemed horrified that something in his possession had caused me pain. "More hives are forming on your neck too."

"Redheads have pretty sensitive skin," I said, still thinking.

The itching was beyond unbearable.

"I can't live with _that_ shower gel!" I blasted, as if it was another woman in his life. "Whatever happened to the gel you used years ago? I loved that one. It never bothered me at all."

"Prada?"

"That was it. There was something about that scent on you that was—mmm—so good!"

"You don't like the _scent_ of Bulgari either?"

"No, I feel like I'm walking around smelling like a cup of citrus tea."

He seemed somewhat taken back.

"I'll get Benadryl to take down the swelling and some medicated Cortizone cream for your back, neck and arms. As for the shower gel, I'll change it immediately. Ella can pick up the Prada today."

"Thank you."

"No problem. It's funny you hate it so much though. Stephanie loved—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

"Sorry, that was way out of line."

"She loves it?" I asked, biting my lip while trying to not scratch.

Great—Stephanie loves his shower gel, and I'm totally allergic to it. Having her there with his memories so fresh was going to be pure joy.

"Yeah. But—"

"It's okay, Carlos. She was part of your life. You're bound to remember things and blurt them out."

I was trying my hardest to be gracious. All the while I assured him, I ran my back up and down the beveled wood of the doorjamb, purring in relief.

He broke into laughter then, but when he saw my glare, his amusement came to a screeching halt.

Smart man.

I did the doorway wiggle again, not giving a shit what it looked like.

"I think some are forming on your arms too," he observed sympathetically.

"Shit! Can you get that cream—now?"

"Of course." He'd already hit a button on his phone.

I hoped and prayed I wouldn't look into a mirror to see my face swollen into giant red blob as well. Nothing like testing Carlos's unconditional love for me on the very first day of our co-habitation!

"Ella, I need you. Bring the anti-itch cream and the Benadryl."

He hung up, trying not to look totally put off by my appearance. My hands were turning red too! Goddamned shower gel!

He came closer. "I'm sorry about the mention of Stephanie. I promise it wasn't done to intentionally hurt or make you feel uncomfortable."

I twitched, jumping around as though there were ants running rampantly all over my body.

"I know, and I realize she was instrumental in getting you to see you needed more in your life."

"She was. But you didn't give up easily either. I don't think I had a chance." He waited a moment before adding, "You and Steph are not that different, you know?

_Did the man have a death wish?_

"How so?"

"You're both women who are determined to be independent and stubborn—almost to your own detriment at times."

"Oh, so obviously you like that type?"

"I notice the obstinacy in you and Stephanie so easily, because well—lets face it—I'm the KING of inflexibility," he admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm shocked! Really? You? Inflexible? I hadn't noticed," I goaded teasingly. In my defense, the damned hives were getting worse.

"Watch it—I wouldn't have to torture you for insubordination," he warned, one corner of his mouth lifting in amusement.

"Don't you think _you've_ put me through enough torture already," I noted wryly and then wanted to instantly bite my tongue.

_Shit! I needed to keep things light with him._

His face became a dark mask. "I regret having caused you any pain, Meg."

"I didn't mean to bring that up—" I responded nervously. "It's all in the past. We're making a fresh start, right? I shouldn't have said it."

"Does that mean you're okay with Stephanie coming here to stay—indefinitely." He'd changed the subject with lightning speed.

"I am. But are you?"

"Of course. I _am_ concerned though. Stephanie can be—she's just about as pigheaded as you are."

Carlos scratched his head, causing blatant envy on my part. I knew I shouldn't scratch if I didn't want scars.

"Mere moments ago I was sweet. Now I'm pigheaded? I just don't see it," I groused, feeling somewhat obstinate.

Ignoring my petulant attitude, he pushed, "Are you going to play nice this time she's here, or is that fiery, red headed temper of yours going to kick into high gear again?"

"What do you mean—again?"

"Breakfast with Hitler and Stalin would have been more peaceful," he reminded me, blowing out the long-stored frustration left my last encounter with Stephanie in his apartment.

I laughed out loud sharply. _When the hell was Ella going to bring that medication?_

"Admit it, Carlos—you enjoyed that. Two women—in a near cat fight. What man wouldn't find that entertaining?"

"Entertained is not the word that comes to mind."

"What do you want me to do—extend an olive branch? I'm afraid she'll slice off my arm!"

"I _want _you to try."

"Okay. Listen—I don't hate Stephanie. I never did. I was jealous, but now I have no reason to be—correct?"

"Correct," he echoed, tilting his head to the side.

I'll be as kind and welcoming as you," I assured him.

_Oh brother, he better not be too kind or too welcoming! _

The green-eyed monster still lurking within me wasn't totally happy to have Stephanie anywhere near Carlos. That remark about her loving his shower gel had been just a little too much information for my peace of mind.

"I'm going to pick her up tonight—at Morelli's request," he informed me somewhat reluctantly.

"He's so solicitous of her, and so are you. She's a very lucky woman."

"I _do _care about her. She's a friend."

"Is that _really_ all she is?"

His answer was crucial to our future.

"You don't need to worry, Meg. She's nothing more."

"If you say so," I muttered insecurely.

His eyes caught mine, making sure I could see his sincerity. "Stephanie was instrumental in helping me see I needed more in my life. I'm not sure I would've gotten there without her constantly reminding me I was human."

"Is it hard to join the rest of us, Carlos?"

His mouth twitched slightly. "Not as long as I have you by my side."

I beamed at his response. "That was a really good answer."

"It was, wasn't it?" he agreed, patting his ego.

**Ranger's POV**

_God, this was getting complicated fast! Had I made the right decision?_ I'd been second-guessing it from the moment we'd started our day.

Relationships scared the hell out of me.

I'd never felt so close to anyone in my life as I did Meg. Wanting her like mad, I was struggling against the warning bell going off in my brain. I'd conditioned myself to be alone for so damned long. _Could I really dive into a relationship headfirst? Or should I keep one foot in the water and see how it all felt?_ How _could_ I back out now? I'd hurt her worse than the torture she'd said I already put her through.

The bottom line was I did love her.

Deeply.

Causing her one more moment of pain was never going to be an option. I'd seen the pure love and happiness in her eyes, and my heart had reopened because of it. How could I keep it unlocked and still be true to myself?

"Carlos, I _really_ didn't mean what I said earlier about the past," she whispered softly.

I shook off the war wagering inside my head and allowed my heart to take over once again.

"I know."

It was too damned hard to keep my cold, aloof persona with her. She was so damned beautiful to me in every way that my defenses took a dive every time I looked into her eyes.

"If you want to talk about anything with me, there's no subject you can't bring up. I want to feel you can be open with me like you were with Morelli."

Merely saying his name left a bad taste in my mouth.

"Do I detect a trace of jealousy?" she asked, looking even paler as more red angry hives appeared on her cheeks.

"I'm _not_ jealous," I denied stubbornly.

She smiled knowingly. "You are too, at least a little. Joe told you he knows all about my past, didn't he?"

The retort was out before I could stop it. "He was a goddamned busybody—telling me I'd better tread carefully where you're concerned. Freaking idiot—what does he know!"

"He knows I love _you_. He's pretty easy to talk to."

"It's not easy to talk to me?"

"It will be. Eventually, I'll spill my guts to you. You won't be able to get me to shut up."

My eyes gleamed. "I wouldn't bet on that, Meg. You know I can do just that whenever I want to."

I felt myself softening again. I'll be damned if she didn't have me weakening by the minute. _Could I afford to let anyone have such power over me? _

She tried her best to smile at me through the obvious torture she was enduring. "I wouldn't mind a demonstration."

"When?" I asked, the corners of my mouth turning upwards.

"When I get rid of these damned hives!" she promised me.

Ella entered the room then, and we set about making sure they disappeared as fast as they'd come. As much as I wanted to deny it to myself, being with Meg was all I wanted—hives and all.

**Joe's POV**

Shit, now I had to give Steph even more bad news. I wished I had a birthday cake or some donuts or even a couple of packages of tasty cakes to soften the blow I was about to give her.

Walking back into the living room, I knew her well enough to know she was putting on a staunch, brave front for me. She was my rock. If I'd had any doubts about what was coming next, her trust in my abilities and me was the strengthening boost I needed to take that prison by storm.

Shit.

I hated causing her pain or worry or one moment of sadness. It was my job to keep her happy—a job I wanted forever. _God, please let me come home to her. Please don't let this be the last moments we have._

"Who was on the phone, Joe?"

"Manoso."

"What'd he want?" Her face was filled with curiosity. "Was it about tonight?"

"Yeah, but not about me. Stephanie, let's sit down."

"Uh oh—that's never good."

"It's not, Cupcake. We need to talk."

Guiding her gently by the hand, I pulled her onto my lap and hugged her to me. I needed to relish those moments, because I knew soon my arms would be empty. It totally sucked—just like she'd said earlier.

"Just tell me. I don't need any more suspense."

I quickly relayed the incidents of the previous night. Stephanie's reaction was as expected.

"Oh my God!" she said, putting her hand over her mouth. "Is Kate in the hospital?"

Her eyes widened in horror. Seeing her body shiver with the memories of her own attack flooding over her, I held her even closer to me.

"No, luckily sirens scared him away. Ranger and his men noticed on the monitors that your security system had somehow gotten shut off. They rushed over there, but didn't catch him. He was very upset with her though when he discovered he had the wrong woman."

"He still—wants to hurt me." I watched the warring emotions in her eyes—anger, fear, confusion.

"Yeah. Cupcake, it isn't safe for you there. You _can't _go back home."

"I could go to my parent's house."

"No baby. You can't. Steph, he has insane hostility toward you _and _Kate now."

"What do I do? Should I just stay here?" Her hands clutched my back.

"It would be an option if Manoso had the manpower, but because of me, he doesn't. The FBI botched this up badly. I'm not about to put you in their care alone."

"Okay, I get that. Where do I go then?"

Looking at her apologetically, my eyes shuttered momentarily.

She stiffened in my arms. "Oh God! Are you kidding me?"

"Where else would you be that safe?"

"You _want _me to go and stay with Ranger?"

"Hell no!" I snorted. "But I _do_ want you safe and that is the ONLY place I trust it will happen."

"Did he ask _you_?"

"No_, I_ asked him."

"Joe—"

"It's okay. I trust you. I _know _you love me. I have no doubt that—"

"_You _are the man for me! You always have been and you always will be."

"I know how deeply we love one another now. I have no more doubts."

"I really wish I could just go home to wait for you." She seemed bitterly disappointed.

"I know." I kissed her neck and her earlobes. "I wish you could too, but it's just not possible. It's going to be awkward, and I would never want to ask this of you—but please do this for me."

She nodded silently, demonstrating surprising stoicism.

"I'll be a model guest. And I won't even complain about the healthy food."

"You complain _about_ and _to_ Manoso all you want!" I grinned. "I'm sorry. You're going through enough without adding more, but I'm afraid there _is_ more."

I took a deep breath, trying to find the words to tell her everything.

"Kate's there."

I looked at her in shock.

"How the hell did you know?" I asked dumbfounded, though she never failed to amaze me with that womanly intuition of hers.

"Well, she's not in the hospital, and Ranger came to her rescue. It doesn't take a rocket scientist."

"She's really not as horrible as you think, Steph."

"Right," she responded dryly.

"She's the reason why you and I are _here._ It had to be her. Who else could have made it happen? Ranger? No. Eddie? No. He doesn't have that much authority, but Kate does. She promised me she'd find a way to make things up to you and me, and I think she has. Don't you?" My eyes entreated her. "Promise me you'll try."

She looked like a six-year old again as, her curls bobbing up and down with her sweet, nodding head.

"I almost forgot. Bob and Rex are there too, so at least you'll have part of our family to keep you company."

Her eyes softened, and she managed a somewhat happy smile. "I miss them."

"Me too. Now you won't be alone. Manoso promised he'd keep you safe, and I need to know you are. Cupcake, I know you don't like Kate, but you have to make this work okay?"

"I promi—Joe she tried to steal you away—and she wasn't nice about it at all." She folded her arms belligerently and closed her eyes.

I laughed. "I don't know how anyone stealing me away would seem nice to you. But you're never going to lose me or what we have. She didn't succeed, and neither did Manoso. We made it. Stephanie Plum and Joe Morelliare together forever—no one will ever come between us again."

**Steph's** **POV**

His eyes filled with warmth, and I felt my heart soften.

"I'll try—for you."

"Thanks, Steph—that's all I ask. I think someday you two could even be friends."

"You just don't know when to quit, do you, Morelli."

"Nope, and you love me anyway."

He ducked, but for once I didn't want to deck him.

All I could do was nod. Time was slipping away from us. If he'd asked me to stay in an igloo with fire-eaters, I'd have said yes.

"I don't want to talk about anyone but us. I don't want you to worry ONE minute about my behavior or cooperation. I'll do whatever I have to—I promise. I want to be here for that moment when you come home to me."

"I _am_ coming home."

"I know."

"There's one more thing, and then I promise the rest of the time we have is for us—and only us."

"Okay. Tell me." I shifted in his lap, so I could look better into his mesmerizing eyes.

He smiled proudly. "I think you're going to like it."

"Good news?"

"I made another call to confirm it, while I was out on the terrace."

"To?"

"Michaels."

"And?"

"And he's officially making you a member of the investigation team and this operation."

Several seconds passed.

My mouth dropped open. "What did you just say?"

He looked at me regretfully. "From now on, I want you in the know about everything going. I made the mistake in the past of trying to keep you in the dark, and I know it hurt you. I was trying to abide by the rules and not divulge confidential information, while at the same time hoping to keep you safer by not telling you too much. I botched up things between us by doing that."

My lips quivered slightly. I held it together barely; because now I knew he'd never meant to cause me pain by leaving me out. His admitting it'd been a mistake touched my heart like nothing else could.

"I never meant to upset you. I trust you with everything," he continued. "Given some of the most convoluted, obscure cases I've ever seen, you've shown you have an uncanny knack for uncovering the truth."

"Thank you for telling me. It means everything to me that you trust me."

"It's the truth. You're my partner—my equal—and I want you to know how much I value your instincts and input. You've made a lot of my cases easier to solve."

"I can't believe you're admitting it," I smiled, as if I'd he'd said I was Wonder Woman.

"Well, I _can_ get past my male ego every once in awhile."

"You've changed too, Morelli, and I can't tell you how much I love it."

"It's called growing up. We're both adults now, and I'm _so_ ready for all the adult behavior that goes with it!"

He waggled his eyebrows at me, hoping to get a little laugh. Knowing how much confidence he was placing in my abilities was reason enough to smile from ear to ear, and laughter, which I thought was going to be almost impossible to find that day, came tumbling out easily. Only Joe could make that happen.

"Hold it, Casanova." I put my hand up to halt his happy, amorous advances. "You need to tell me more about what is going on with Michaels," I said, shaking my finger at him, "No 'you-know-what' until you do!"

He made an effort to sulk jokingly, while his eyes smiled back. "The TPD is asking you to consult with everyone on this operation and do the investigative work you're so damned good at. We need you to figure out how the electronics are being smuggled in for those burner phones. I also want you to actively pursue—by investigation _only_—this insane maniac who is after you and Kate. We need to determine if he is indeed connected to our prison mission in some way."

"You think I'm _that _good?"

"I think you're amazing. And you and I together on the TPD, figuring out some of those damned near impossible cases, are going to be the best team—"

"OH My God, Joe! You already called Michaels before I told you I needed a new career I was passionate about, didn't you?"

"I guess we're starting to be on the same wavelength."

He kissed me then, confirming how lucky I was to have this man as my other half.

"I missed it too," he continued when we broke a part. "It was fun running into you all day long out of the blue. Meeting to talk about our cases—finding reasons to be together more than at night—working side by side and sharing everything with each other. I want it back too."

He proceeded to clue me in on every aspect of the mission, until I knew every detail of information they'd gathered. I was to be given copies of all the files pertinent to the case, including each of the criminals in that prison. With that kind of information, I knew I'd be successful. I felt a surge of excitement. God, I loved this man! Then reality hit.

"How in the hell can the TPD afford me?"

"You're on probation. I know you'll blast this thing wide open. And when you do, I have his promise. Michaels and Brooks owe me BIG time. I was nearly killed at Pino's, because of their lackadaisical attitudes and poorly made decisions. So I'm collecting on the guilt. I told him I wanted to put you on the payroll permanently, as a consultant, when you prove yourself on this operation."

"I can't believe it! You really think I'd be good at it?"

"You _are_ good at it. Your mind goes into places that seem outlandish, yet when it looks like you're making wild guesses or jumping to conclusions, they turn into reality all the time! It knocks me off my feet. We need you, Steph. There are a lot of open cases and unsolved murders we can reopen with new eyes and new evidence. With your track record, I bet we'll be able to shut them closed permanently."

I smiled at him, keeping silent.

"What do you think?" he asked. "Have I overstepped by arranging this?"

I waited until he met my gaze.

"I think if I could possibly love you any more, this would be the reason. It's perfect."

"I don't want you to feel left out one moment while I'm away. I know you need to keep busy, and I think this could be the start of a pretty fantastic collaboration between us. Besides you'd be helping me get the hell out of that fucking jail a lot sooner."

"That would be—" I choked back the tears.

They weren't sad tears—but joyful ones. He understood me! And apparently knew me better than I even knew myself. With that kind of love, how could I ever have doubted his devotion to me for one single second?

"Good?" he asked hopefully.

"Really good. Morelli, you must want to be in my good graces for the rest of your life."

"I do."

"You are. You always will be."

"I want that in writing, so I can pull it out when we're in the middle of our biggest fights. By the way, you were just about to tip the mush scale, Plum."

"I don't care. Today I'd give it to you in writing."

"Me either. I feel the same way."

I closed my eyes, blinking the tears away. "I do have _one_ wish."

"What wish is that?" he asked, kissing me as though he was a starving man needing his sustenance.

"I wish we could be married before you go."

I knew it was impossible, and I shouldn't have brought it up. I felt guilty for expressing it. Joe would want to give me my wish, and he couldn't. I didn't want to make him feel pressured or unhappy he wouldn't be able to make it happen.

"I wish we could too," he simply agreed.

"Well could we at least consummate our new partnership on this operation?" I offered invitingly.

"I think we could," he agreed, kissing me like there was no tomorrow.

_Oh God, please bring us a tomorrow!_

**Joe's POV**

I felt my cheeks being tickled by someone's playful fingers.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty—time to wake up." Steph's laughter woke me instantly. How I loved that sound.

"Man, how long have I been asleep?" Damn! I hadn't wanted to lose one moment with her.

"It's okay. I needed a little longer anyway."

"Longer for what?" I asked, yawning and stretching.

My eyes were fuzzy with sleep, but she looked beautiful. She had on a blue, v-necked dress that perfectly matched her eyes. Her hair was up with loose curls falling around her gorgeous face, which was glowing with excitement. Here I was about to leave her for only God knew how long, and like always she wore that dazzling smile just for me.

I'd never wanted her more. Reaching out to pull her to me, I was more than a little surprised when she jumped back.

"Not yet, slugger. We have to do this right." Her eyes glittered in anticipation.

"What time is it?"

"Just after six o'clock."

"Shit! I've been asleep nearly two and a half hours!"

"It's okay. I wanted to surprise you."

"You're surprising me? With what?" I asked, getting myself untangled from the covers.

"First, you need to change into those clothes." She pointed at the chair next to our bed. "Meet me in the living room."

"Steph, I just want to be with you as much as I can."

"I know, and you will be. Trust me—I want to be with you too."

"Okay, give me ten minutes," I said, feeling the way past five o'clock shadow on my face.

I took a five-minute shower, shaved and quickly got into the black slacks and white shirt she'd laid out for me. Walking into the living room, I was met by soft sensuous music emitting from the CD player. The room was lit entirely by candles. Flowers were in a vase on the coffee table. The French doors leading to the terrace were open where I could see more flowers, more flickering candles and a table set for an alfresco dinner—complete with wine and crystal glasses.

I looked at the pots and pans on the stove and realized she'd made the dinner.

"You cooked?"

"Don't be afraid, Morelli. I know what I'm doing."

"I'm not afraid. I'm touched. That was really sweet."

I could hear the sound of sizzling food and smelled the appetizing, unmistakable aroma of seasoned meat filling the air.

Her lips curved upward. "It won't actually kill you either."

"I had no doubt," I answered, albeit a bit guilty. In truth I _did_ have a little doubt.

"We're eating on the terrace. Go sit down, and I'll be there in just a minute."

"Stephanie, how did you do all this?" I waved my hands across the flowers and candles.

"Eddie's a _really_ good friend."

"Yeah, he is."

"Now go. I want to do this right."

I followed orders with some amusement, because she was _really_ into whatever it was she had cooking.

She came out shortly afterward with two generous plates of food. There were steaks with sautéed mushrooms, mashed potatoes and asparagus with hollandaise sauce. She set them down with a flourish in front of me, smiling.

"I've been dying to cook you something, so you can see I'm not the world's worst chef anymore."

"Cupcake, if you never learned to boil water, I promise; I wouldn't care."

"Taste it."

I took my fork and knife, cutting the tender, perfectly cooked steak. She watched as I took the first bite, her face filled with eager anticipation.

"Oh my God…this is _really_ good." My eyes gazed into hers appreciatively.

"Told you!" She plopped proudly into my lap.

We took turns feeding one another, and it was like heaven being so relaxed and free to enjoy the evening.

"It's terrific."

I couldn't hide my surprise as I dug into the mashed potatoes—buttery fluffy clouds that melted in my mouth.

"Shit, Stephanie, this is amazing!"

"Damn it, Morelli, stop acting _so_ surprised."

She jumped out of my lap and stood there with her hands on both of her beautiful hips.

"That's almost as insulting as if you hated it!"

I could tell she was racked with nervous tension under her false bravado.

"I'm—sorry—I'm glad you like it," she retracted her outburst.

Knowing all her defense mechanisms pretty well, it was apparent she was afraid of spoiling our last hours by fighting.

"It's okay. It _was_ insulting to you. I'm sorry. You did an amazing job with this meal. It's better than any restaurant I've been to, and you know that's a lot of places." I reached out my arms and pulled her back into my lap, feeding her a forkful of potatoes. "I love you—cooking or no cooking—you know that, right?"

"Yeah." Her pouting lips turned upwards slightly.

"I should rephrase that. I like what you've got cooking—a lot!"

I whispered into her ear how I'd love to get her to the boiling point.

She shook her head, feeding me more. "You're going to need your strength, Morelli. I'm not sure you'll be up for what I'm planning after dinner. You need lots of protein."

She licked her lips temptingly.

"Protein huh?"

"Yep."

"I have an idea." I brought us both to our feet.

"What could be better than—?"

"Dance with me."

"You really want to dance?" she asked, as I pulled her into my arms.

"You know I'm pretty good."

"I wouldn't know. You never did dance with me at your cousin Julie's wedding," she reminded me sardonically.

"I didn't? Shit, that almost seems like another lifetime now, doesn't it?" I shook my head; amazed so much time had passed.

"Sometimes, but there are other times it feels like yesterday."

Her hand slipped into mine, and my arm wrapped around her waist.

We swayed to the music slowly. Little by little, I began to guide her body with mine in a combination of every move I knew. We danced as one being, anticipating the others steps and direction perfectly as if we'd practiced for months.

"You _do _have some moves, Morelli. I like them."

"You do? Is that all you like?"

"No.

"What else?"

"Everything."

"You're way too agreeable. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were drunk."

She giggled. "You can't get drunk on sparkling grape juice. I'm sorry it wasn't real wine, but just in case…" She moved her hand from my shoulder for a moment to place it hopefully over her abdomen.

We shared a secret-keeping smile.

"I don't mind. I need to be completely clear for what's coming."

"You mean prison."

"No, I mean us," he grinned wolfishly. "I don't want to have a fuzzy memory of one moment we spend together."

I was being sincere. This night and all its memories were going to keep me sane through all that lied ahead.

"I don't either," she agreed.

"Have you ever had sex that had to last you for possibly months?" I asked, wondering if it was even achievable.

"Yeah, although I didn't know it," she confided. "It was one of the best nights of my life."

"When? With whom?" I felt a little prickly jealousy.

"With you, nuthead. Our last night—at my place—right before you broke up with me."

"Steph—"

She put her fingers over my mouth to shush me. "It was the best thing you could've ever done for me. It woke me up! You gave me the most unselfish gift ever, Morelli, and I love you so much for having the strength of character and the balls to do it."

"I hated doing it," I confessed. Walking away from her had been the fucking hardest thing I'd ever done.

"I know," she nodded. "Sometimes it takes tough love."

"I've never stopped loving you for one, single second."

"I know. You probably won't believe it with my track record, but I've never been anything but in love with you either," she said a little sadly.

"I _do_ believe it."

Her eyes told me how much that meant to her.

"I don't think I can actually say goodbye to you." She shook her head, her eyes glistening.

"Goodbyes are not our specialty."

"Which is pretty funny considering how many 'on's' and 'off's' we've had."

"True—but maybe it's because we never really meant any of the 'off's'."

She bit her lip. "You're right. And tonight is no different. This isn't goodbye at all."

"Nope."

We began swaying to the music again.

"This is nice," she said softly

"This time with you was an unexpected miracle. I needed it more than I can say. I wasn't looking forward to going to that prison. Don't get me wrong—I'm still not, but being with you like this has made me want to get this damned thing over with as soon as possible, so we can—"

**Steph's POV**

I locked my lips to his. We had to become one again—soon. Every part of me wanted to feel him inside me. I wanted to memorize his face—his hands—his eyes.

Everything.

Not that I'd ever forget them, but I had no idea how long our separation would be. The thought of not seeing him for months or holding his hand or spooning next to him drove me a little nuts.

Kisses were hot and heavy now.

I buried my face into his shoulder. "I need you too."

"Is it—?"

"It is!" She tickled my ear with her lips.

"This night's going to really have to be something to tide me over until you get home, Morelli," she teased.

"Oh, it is—huh? I thought _all_ of our lovemaking has been something pretty special."

"It has been. Every time."

"You _did_ fake it that one time, you know—when we were late for Uncle Spud's birthday," he reminded me.

"Are you ever going to let that one go? ONE time—in all these years—and you're still bringing that up! if you think of all the times we've done it, that one time shouldn't count at all."

"So you never faked except that once?"

"NO!

"Truthfully?"

"I swear on both our crazy grandmothers!"

"So you're happy with my skills in the bedroom?"

"Are you fishing, Morelli?"

"No. I just want to make sure I'm making you happy."

She cocked an eyebrow. "I'm in heaven over your expertise in that field. In fact, I have a secret name for you."

"You do? Do I want to know what it is?"

"Maybe."

"No maybe about it. Fess up, Cupcake."

He started to tickle my neck. Knowing it was my weakest spot; he'd get me blabbering about anything he wanted in no time flat.

I pushed my neck down over his fingers trying in vain to stop him.

"It might go to your head."

"Oh, it's that good?"

"It's pretty good." I nodded, laughing at his snaking fingers going after me again. "Damned good in fact."

"Are you going to tell me or what?"

"How about we go into the bedroom?" I snickered helplessly "and we make love. If you measure up to the name, I'll tell you."

"That sounds a little like you're _challenging _my expertise?"

"Are you worried you'll never find out your nickname?"

"Not one bit."

He swooped me off the dance floor, kissing me so enthusiastically. My knees were knocking. I couldn't wait to be with him again. Suddenly I remembered something crucial to our dinner.

"Morelli!"

"What?" He raised his lips off mine, smiling.

"We have dessert."

"Hell yeah we do, and she's in my arms."

"No. We have cake!"

"You baked a cake too?" His eyes widened in shock.

"No, you dope. I got Eddie to bring the one I was saving in the freezer for when you came home. But this is just as good of an occasion. It should be thawed by now."

He took me to the fridge and, bending down, helped open the door where the 'Happy Birthday Illerom' cake sat waiting.

He grinned. "What do you know? That funny-eared kid, Illerom, is having a birthday again."

"He doesn't have funny ears, but his nose is like Pinocchio's."

His eyes narrowed. "Is that so?"

"No, I'm lying! Would you like dessert here or in the bedroom?"

"Do you really have to ask, Cupcake?"

He zeroed in on the bedroom while I held the cake. Painting his perfectly-sized nose with whipped frosting, I smiled invitingly into his eyes. We were making the most out of our last hours together. As we lay on the bed, he took some of the frosting and applied it to my lips, my nose, my cheeks and my neck.

"Now this is the way to eat frosting," he murmured, licking it off my skin delectably.

"You're off to a good start. You may get that nickname out of me yet," I whispered, opening my legs to wrap them around him.

My dress was easy to remove. With one tug on the sash, it parted, leaving me exposed to his complete perusal.

His eyes locked with mine, softening into the mouth-wateringly, chocolate pools I loved so dearly. I felt like crying. Never in my life had I felt so cherished and so adored. Then slowly he tore his gaze away to take in my body—the lacy black bra and matching black thong—as if he was treasuring every moment of his exploration. Tears fell to the pillow beneath me. I couldn't stop crying. This could NOT be the last time. It just couldn't!

His fingers traced down my neck, lowering toward my cleavage. "You don't even know how gorgeous you are to me, do you?"

I shook my head, letting out a soft cry. "You're gorgeous to me too."

He laughed softly then, his mouth taking the place of his fingers. His lips and tongue brought tingling pleasure throughout my body.

He stopped for few seconds to gaze deeply into my eyes. "This isn't the last time, and I'm sure as hell not ever saying goodbye to you."

His lips captured mine. I moaned as we shared all the desperation we felt to stay together, to never be parted again. Slowly he removed the rest of my clothing, and I helped him with his.

Kneeling on the bed, we faced each other.

It was my turn to take him in. His muscular chest with the eagle tattoo I'd grown to love kissing—strong sinewy arms that had held me through so many of my crisis moments and in all of my most blissful ones too. Arms that had opened to me at the age of six, again at sixteen and then had stayed open from the moment we'd come into each other's lives again. Oh God, I was going to miss them! No matter if it was one day, a week, a month, a year or heaven forbid longer.

We clasped hands tightly, treasuring the seconds and taking it slowly—making it last as long as we could. Then, as if in slow motion, we each grazed our hands over the other's body. Down the shoulders, the arms—his hands on my breasts and mine sliding over his tattoo. It was as though each touch was a series of words.

I love you

I need you

I want you

You're mine

I'm yours.

Silent messages passed between us as his hands released my curls to fall down over my shoulders. His fingers looped through my hair, pulling my head toward his lips. Kisses were long, sweet nuances of our lives—our past, present and hopes for our future.

Lying down, he rolled his body over mine. Still no words were uttered. None were needed. He kissed every part of me, starting with my hair, eyes and forehead and working his way down my body in loving attentiveness. He made sure no part of me was left untouched.

As he brought his lips to my love center, I wreathed in joyous abandon as he took me to the pinnacle of pleasure. As he moved back up my body, I motioned for him to lay back so I could returned some of the same beautiful things he'd done for me. Morelli was the one groaning softly when I ministered to his favorite erogenous zones, giving him back the pleasure he had gifted to me.

Straddling his body, I took him into me, needing to feel him become a part of me physically. His hands wrapped around me ravenously. His passion-glazed eyes possessed mine as he watched me moving against him. Tenderly, we rocked back and forth, until the momentum naturally accelerated, rising and falling back and forth. The only sound in the room was our heavy panting and low moans. A few wildly abandoned cries escaped my lips, and my body collapsed in shuddering ecstasy over his.

Our hands intertwined as we moved to face each other sideways.

"You going to tell me, Cupcake."

Joe's voice was still raspy with passion, but it wasn't going to stop him from learning his nickname.

"Well I don't know. I did almost all the work this time," I teased, while my heart broke over our imminent separation.

"You don't say?" he snorted, shaking his head. His eyes penetrated my soul. "So does that mean I need to still prove myself?"

"If you want to know that awesome name I gave you, you're going to have show me a little more of what you've got, Morelli!"

"Is that so?"

"Yep."

He flipped me on to my back and proceeded to show me in his own breathtaking way just how much he wanted to hear my secret name for him. I would probably be screaming it out for the world to hear if he kept on doing what he was doing!

Afterwards, I couldn't speak but rather lay in his arms, feeling the wonderful aftershocks of our lovemaking.

"That was incredible," I whispered.

**Joe's POV**

"And?"

"And satisfying."

"And?" My eyes dared her to put me off one moment longer."

"And magnificent."

"And?"

"That's it. That's your name."

"Magnificent?" I questioned, somewhat unimpressed.

"Well no—I added a little more to that."

"Uh-huh—and that would be?"

"You're going to have to get an ego deflator after I tell you."

"Isn't that your job?" I laughed out loud, nearly wanting to pat myself on my back.

Steph responded with her usual eye roll.

"Yeah."

"Come on—didn't I earn it?" I pouted playfully.

"Oh yeah you did." She blushed a little. "Morelli the Magnificent. I've had that secret name for you a very long time."

"Now _that's_ more like it, Cupcake." My eyes gleamed, more than satisfied with the title. "It kind of makes me sound like I'm a magician."

"OH no! You're way better than any magic trick. You're the _real_ deal. There's no subterfuge or slight of hand. What you see with Morelli the Magnificent is what you get. It's far _better _than any magical illusion."

"You love me?" I asked her, completely enchanted by her.

"More than love you. There isn't a word yet."

Her eyes teared up. "It's nearly one in the morning. You're going at three."

"I know."

We laid there just melding into one another with our eyes—knowing a hugely sad moment was lurking in front of us.

I kissed her ring finger where the sapphire had rested ever since our private reunion began.

"I haven't taken it off. I've had to wear it concealed on a chain." She smiled, letting me know she'd kept her promise never to remove it.

I kissed her long and lovingly. _God I wanted more time!_

Steph's POV

We took a nice leisurely shower together before dressing. Joe packed his bag. I'd be taking his clothing with me to Rangeman, because he'd have no use for it in prison. He'd already been issued his prison garb with his ID number. It was so strange to see the love of my life dressed as a common criminal. I dressed in jeans and a warm sweater. Chills and shivers were overtaking my body.

Joe grabbed his wallet and took something from it. Walking over, he took my hand in his. "I know the usual saying is a penny for your thoughts."

"It is."

"Well I think with inflation and the devaluing of our dollar, if I gave you a silver dollar for yours, it would be more in keeping with today's standard for thoughts."

"Oh? And what thoughts do you want for that silver dollar?"

"Whatever you choose to think of at nine o'clock every night while I'm away."

"I'd love that, but you can have my thoughts for free."

"I know. This coin is lucky and hopeful though, so I think it belongs with you while I'm away. My mother's father gave it to me. We went to his house one summer, and he told me a story about this coin. It has an eagle on it. He told me the coin had saved his life during the war. It seems he was flipping it, and as he did it fell to the ground. There was a sudden unexpected attack, and the guy standing not an inch away was blown to bits. My grandfather had bent over to pick up this coin. He survived, because he dropped it."

"Oh my God, Morelli! You have that _same_ eagle on your chest?"

"I figured if I ever lost this coin it couldn't hurt," he smiled sheepishly.

"It reminded you of your grandfather?"

"Yeah. He was a _good_ man—totally the opposite of all the Morelli men. He loved his kids and his grandkids. He's the reason I was able to take a different path."

"I'm so glad you told me, and that you had a decent man to look up to."

"Not for long. He died when I was ten."

"But he made a lasting impression."

"Yes he did."

"I'll hold it for you until you come home. I have something for you too."

"There's not much I can take with me, Steph."

"I know, but you can have this. Put out your hand."

He did as I asked, and in it, I laid the medal he'd gifted me with shortly after I finally confessed my love to him. It wasn't a proud moment for me. At the time, I'd convinced myself I was equally in love with Ranger, but Joe had been scared out of his mind he would lose me when Scroggs took me. He'd given me a medal of St. Michael for my protection against evil. On the back, he'd had six words engraved. It was one of my most treasured possessions. I'd carried it with me in my purse since the day I'd received it.

He looked at the medal in his hand, then up at me.

"This is for you Steph. I can't take it."

"Oh yes, you can! You need this 'in the absence of _my _arms.'

He turned it over and smiled as he read the words he'd chosen for me.

"Please, Joe—I need you to have all the protection you can get. It's almost like I'd be there with you this way. Don't say no."

"I won't. Thank you, Cupcake. I'll return it as soon as I come home."

We went into one another's arms then, holding on like scared children who were afraid of being ripped away from the thing they loved most.

"You take good care of yourself, okay?" His hand lay softly against my stomach. "And—uh—if we were successful on our secret objective, please find a way to get word to me."

"I will—I promise."

"If you are, I'll be the luckiest guy on the planet."

My throat was twisted with choking tears. I didn't know how to be that brave. I'd tried really hard.

"I'm going to miss you every moment you're gone."

"I love you, Stephanie. I always have, and I always will."

I looked at the clock and knew ten minutes was all we had left.

"I'll work really hard on this operation of ours, Morelli. I promise you that. I'll do everything in my power to make sure you return home soon."

"I have no doubt. I'm so lucky to have a fighter like you in my corner."

"I love you. I love everything you are, and even though we fight like crazy, please know I don't want a life with any other man—not as long as I breathe. You promise me you won't do anything nutty or be so much of a hero that—"

"I'm just a man—not a hero. And that is all I've ever wanted to be."

"You're the best man for me."

"Uh oh, Cupcake, you're getting soft on me again."

"I'm allowed this one time."

"Yeah, you are."

The doorbell chimed, and we broke apart. "They're here."

"Yeah."

He kissed me hard and fast one last time. Walking to the door, he opened it. There were two FBI men. The plan was to sneak Joe into solitary confinement and then bring him out into the general population first thing in the morning.

To my surprise, Ranger came walking in shortly after. I saw the look Joe and he exchanged and I knew it was at Joe's request he'd come.

"Just give us a couple more minutes," Joe instructed. Clasping my hand in his, he led me back into the bedroom.

We stood there—both at a loss for what to say. I started to cry. His arms came around me—strong and sure and secure.

"Leaving you now is the hardest thing I've ever had to do," he said quietly.

His eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. He was holding me up like he always had. Brushing the tears from _my_ cheek as my chest heaved in silent heartbreak, he allowed me have that self-indulgent moment without any judgment. He just held me close to his chest and kissed my hair.

"You've got to let me go, Cupcake."

For the third time in my life, I heard him speak those same words—first at the Tasty Pastry shortly before he left for the Navy. The second time was when he broke off our relationship, letting _me _go so I could see what an incredible man I'd had all along. He'd forced my long overdue metamorphosis into adulthood. Because he knew me better than anyone, I was able to finally become the woman he deserved.

It was surreal to hear those words again as he was leaving me now.

The other two times had hurt tremendously and had wrenched loose something in my soul. But this time was the worst, because we'd made it through so many trials and tests and found exactly what we were both looking for—love. A love like nothing I'd ever known or would ever know with anyone but him.

I pulled his head down to my lips for one last kiss, trying to convey everything to him I was feeling—intense sadness, fear, longing, hope, despair, pride and the most intensely, all consuming love I'd ever felt. Giving him the freedom to do what he needed to do, I took a deep breath and stepped back from the gentle cocoon of his body.

"This is the _last _time I'm ever letting you go. When you come home, you're never leaving me again!"

"Nothing could drag me away—ever," he promised, pushing the errant curls behind my ear as he'd done thousands of times.

"Take care of yourself, Morelli."

"You too, Cupcake."

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them again, he was gone.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

No Profit. Not my characters.

Carol and Kim If not for the two of you, I seriously doubt that I ever would have written another word past the last chapter of this story. I had big time prison block. J Thanks for all that you do. I'd have to write a whole chapter just to enumerate the many ways you've both enhanced my life.

Bless you Carol, for taking the time to do this beta for me in the midst of your busy life and before leaving for your trip. Hope you're having a wonderful time!

Readers you are the best! Thanks for your patience during my research and always sticking with me. I value your loyalty and support more than I can say.

I did research this. I hope the prison part is true to life. I am by no means an authority on any of this. So please forgive any oversights or inconsistencies.

Joe's POV

After months of planning and preparation, it wasn't until I entered the dimly lit halls of Trenton State Prison that it truly hit me.

My freedom was gone.

I'd become another number in the infinite sea of lost souls occupying that building. Liberty was something I'd always taken for granted. Had the other inmates as well? Did any of them regret their actions that had led to the incarceration of their minds, bodies, hearts and souls—some for the rest of their natural lives?

Amidst the horrific smells of antiseptic, human waste and desperation, I could feel the dying hope of those surrounding me. I heard the hard-soled shoes of the guards at my sides clacking in rhythmic patterns as we made our way toward my uncertain future.

This insane urge to run gripped me. I could fight them off and make my escape. Find Stephanie and make our getaway pretending this whole thing had never happened.

But when they opened the door at the end of the hall, I knew it was too late. There was no turning back.

My fate had been sealed.

Steph's POV

Ranger went to put the key into the lock to the fifth floor apartment door of Rangeman, and it swung open easily to reveal a stunned Kate, looking as if she'd been caught in the act. Dressed in a skimpy, black, silky, low-cut nightgown and matching short robe, her outfit left little to the imagination.

_What was she up to parading round Rangeman like some grade-B movie actress looking for a one-night stand? _

She had Rex's cage in one hand and a firm hold on Bob's leash in the other.

The big, red-orange blur jumped like an endorphin-enhanced, body builder, practically doing jumping jacks at the sight of me.

"I was just making sure they were both here when you arrived," Meg explained, blushing furiously.

Ranger's mouth tipped up at the corners. His eyes were obviously preoccupied with the blatantly, meant-to-be-enticing view.

"You can let go of the leash. I have him," I coldly informed Kate—I mean Meg. _Damn it!_ She dropped it, focusing her dazzlingly provocative smile on Ranger.

"Uh—you made it back fast," she observed somewhat embarrassedly.

"Yeah, I arrived there just when the suits did," he said, not daring to mention Morelli's name. If he had, I'd have lost it.

"He's on his way to the prison?" Meg asked stupidly.

"Yeah, he's probably already there."

Ranger glanced at me, concern still evident in his eyes. He'd helped me gather my things, making sure I'd made a hasty exit from the safe house that now held so many both beautifully happy and devastatingly sad moments for me.

Meg gave me a look that was filled with what I'd always hated most from anyone—pity! "I'm _really _sorry, Stephanie. I know how difficult this must be."

I wanted to shout she had no fucking idea how shitty this was, and she never WOULD know, because Joe was MINE! Swiping at my curls instead, I bent down to hold Bob as closely as possible. Smelling Meg's scent all over his fur, I held my breath.

Bob seemed agitated and started his whiny cry, looking past Ranger and Meg. No doubt he was expecting his master to be standing in the doorway next, just waiting for his favorite canine slobber-filled greeting.

No Joe.

Bob cried louder.

I knew exactly how he felt.

"You must've been all packed?" Meg said, again trying to break the ice. But the solid cold mass left inside of me was all that was holding me together. My whole being felt like it had been frozen in time—awaiting Joe's return.

"There are a few more things there. I'll have Ella pick them up tomorrow. I thought it was best to get Stephanie settled as soon as possible," Ranger explained.

_Why did I feel so much like I was the odd man out?_ I had as much right to be there as she did!

Protectively, I reached for Rex's cage. Meg handed it over without a word. I needed my family around me. It did nothing to warm my heart when I noticed Bob licking Meg's hand, while I looked for signs of life from Rex—whom wisely stayed asleep in his soup can. Sometimes I wished I could be a hamster.

Somehow I had to find a way to be gracious, but so far I wasn't even close to feeling it.

Forcing myself to make the effort, I looked directly into _her_ eyes.

As I did, I saw the telltale bruises on her neck and face. Joe's reassuring voice sounded in my head, penetrating my fierce need to be heartless and unyielding toward her. That and the fact she had suffered horribly, while trying to protect me, made me feel like the world's most ungrateful bitch.

That being the case, it all meant nothing, because I could barely open my mouth to enunciate the words I knew Morelli would have expected out of me. I wanted to make him proud. I promised him I'd try. Rolling my eyes mentally, I kicked my staunch, immature rebellion to the curb.

"Thank you for keeping Bob and Rex here," I said stiffly. "That was kind of you."

"Not a problem," she responded succinctly.

Well, it wasn't like we were going to be kissing and hugging BFF's anytime soon!

"Uh, I suppose I'll be seeing you. Are you right next door?" I asked, deciding it was good to know which direction to avoid.

Meg and Ranger shared a look. I deduced plenty from that look. My mouth dropped open, but no sound escaped.

"Meg and I are on the seventh floor," Ranger explained quietly, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

_ Jeez, I wonder why? _

"I see."

And _boy did I!_

"Well, we should be getting back to bed—I mean—it's late, and you need some rest," Meg stammered.

I figured it was late all right, and they wanted to get to bed, but obviously not to sleep. I felt jealousy constricting my throat. Not because Ranger was with _her_, but because I wanted Joe to be with me so badly.

_Did he know about Meg and Ranger? Why wouldn't he have told me? Damn it!_ Awkward didn't begin to cover the feelings now forming between the three of us.

Ranger slid his hand into Meg's as if he'd been doing it for years. Gazing into her eyes, his face softened. "Let's let Stephanie get settled. We can talk more in the morning. Breakfast is at ten, since it's such a late night. I hope you'll join us upstairs, or if you prefer, I can have Ella serve you here?"

This was it—my most defining, grown-up, moment yet. Would I choose blessed solitude, or make the extremely tricky effort to play nice in this most bizarre situation?

"I'll see you both at ten." I could hear Joe's voice, "Atta girl! I'm proud of you, Cupcake."

I felt like a phony, because all I wanted to do was stay in this secluded apartment with my one and a half family members.

They nodded, waving silently before taking their leave. As the door slammed shut, I gave way to the few tears I had left. Not bothering to change my clothing, I pilfered through my suitcase, grasping one of Joe's recently worn t-shirts in my hands and holding it up to my nose so I could inhale the scent of him. Hugging it to my face, I plopped on the bed and fell into an exhausted sleep with Bob cuddled contentedly beside me.

Joe's POV

Walking into the prison mess hall that first morning was surreal. Before the double metal doors opened, there was a  
loud drone of conversation, some clattering of plates and silverware and even the loud sound of raunchy laughter. But the moment those doors swung wide, admitting me with a prison guard on either side, the entire room froze into dead silence.

I was on display like a circus freak—the two-headed crooked cop! And God, did I ever get the looks. They sent shivers up my back, and it took a lot to rattle me. Eyes sliced through me in all directions. Some filled with curiosity, some with overt hate, others with obvious disgust. All had some sort of judgmental cast to them. I could see that this was going to be loads of fun.

The guards elbowed their way through the half standing/half sitting eclectic group of outcasts. Of course, the only available seat was all the way in the back of the room. I felt like I did when we were late to Mass, and all the pews except those in the very front were taken. The whole congregation got in a nice gawking moment when you made your way embarrassingly down the aisle.

Shoulders back, my eyes remained hardened and unfocused, letting them all know I didn't give a shit which of them was staring or what the hell they thought of me.

Sitting down, I saw the Merry Men seated at the far end of the same table. Their searing glares were no less intimidating than the rest.

Funny.

As many times as I'd seen the three of them, I'd never really given thought to how fucking menacing they really were.

Hector, with his gang member tattoos, was just plain frightening. His daunting expression gave nothing away, and that single teardrop etched in ink by his eye stated 'I've KILLED in cold blood' loud and clear. His shoulders were broad, but his body was wiry and solid.

His eyes were coal black, and I knew if he'd still been on the wrong side of the law, it would've been a total nightmare to security experts everywhere. The man could get through anything locked or hidden away with very little trouble.

At the precinct, we jokingly referred to him as Stealth Man. His services there were invaluable. He'd helped us get a half-melted safe open once, and had even gotten through a locked suitcase wired to blow on the moment of entrance with a ticking bomb thundering inside. I'd seen his expertise firsthand when I'd reluctantly had to call in those favors from Manoso. Asking him for anything then—owed or not—was like swallowing bitter quinine, because I'd known what he'd taken from _me_ without a second thought.

Cal was a force to be reckoned with too. He had the body of a prehistoric, man- eating monster. His forehead was marked with an indelible skull on fire. He didn't need it to intimidate anybody; no one would so much as dare approach him. No doubt he'd merely growl, pick them up in his hands and turn them into mincemeat.

And then there was Tank, who was deceptively silent and seemingly dumb. But underneath his steely eyes, he didn't miss a thing. His unexpected wisdom and surprisingly well thought out reasoning was in startling contrast to his looks. On the surface he looked like he could be a Teddy bear, but rile him, and the big Grizzly came out ready to gnarl and bite his way right through you.

While eating my lumpy, grainy, and totally unappealing mush, accompanied by cold toast that tasted like cardboard, I sorely wished for anything else—even some of Stephanie's even contaminated, peanut butter. Forcing down the swamp-water-weak-as-hell coffee, I wondered how soon I'd have a confrontation.

No need to worry. Before the thought had been totally formed in my brain, it was on me.

He approached slowly, the jagged scar zigzagging down his face. His bleak eyes speared me as he made his way to my chair. I could see the guards posted at the door reaching for their weapons.

Shit

I stood ready for action. I recognized this punk. His gang name was Nitro. I'd arrested him the night of Steph's Slayer attack. If it hadn't been for Sally Sweet, this lowlife and the others would have killed her, after first bringing her to her knees in agonizing humiliation, terror and pain. At the time, it'd been little solace to me to push him into the prison wagon with the rest of his diabolically, evil pals.

"You nothing, but a stinking, rancid bacon. Yousa a fucking hypocrite!"

Wow, nothing new there. Getting insulted and called names was part of my daily routine. I never even broke a sweat over it anymore.

I'd studied every one of the files of the prisoners in my cellblock. There were eight men I'd personally arrested for murder, attempted murder and other sinister crimes, and I expected to be confronted by every one of them.

One down—seven to go.

"Youz all high and mighty putting them bracelets on us. When you d' skank out there cheating your own bros, taking cake like some block baller. You ain't nothing but a frontin', perpetratin' thug youself! Making like some Big Dilly—you better watch your back side, Pig, because snitches like you—there be a long line waiting jus' happy to bust' a cap or shank your ass. You be history in nothing flat wit yor pretty face."

Shoved chairs clattered to the floor, hitting the tile with banging resonance.

Nitro made his move by grabbing the collar of my steel grey prison shirt. He pulled back his toughened fist ready to smack me one. Before his fist hit my face, Tank had him in one hand, dangling him off the floor like a flopping puppet. Cal and Hector were lined up in front of him, their backs to me.

"Touch him and your days are numbered. He's all mine!" Cal informed Nitro threateningly. "I got a score to settle. You understand? Don't you fret none. Me and these boys—we _got _him. He won't be bothering you or anybody else."

"Put me down, you fugly thug! Guards!" Nitro cried out, not looking nearly as brave now. Furiously squirming in Tank's grip, he added, "What you got that tops his cartin' me and my homies to the slammer?"

The guards knew that there were times to stay out of things and this was one of them. They hung back letting the drama play out. Lots of people could end up dead, including them, if they so much as drew a gun or even a club. That room was filled with total losers with nothing left to lose. Many of them were already serving a life sentence for murder.

Cal was quick on his feet with a reply. "He arrested my baby sista for attempted murder. Shit, she was just defending herself against her baby's daddy! He had a blade to her throat. She managed to shoot him in the gut! He nearly bled out. This bacon fucker brutally manhandled her, and she was pregnant at the time! My nephew was inside her belly when he throwed her to the ground before cuffing her! Lucky for him that baby lived, or he'd be swimming in the river with cement flippers. His bones are mine to pick! Ain't no one who messes with my sis! You got that!"

"Jeez, yeah gangsta! Why didn't you say so. Blood trumps all in the hood. I ain't no fool. Scum like him needs to suffa big time. Long as he pays, I'm chillin'."

Tank set him down, glaring at him warningly.

He backed up like a scared rodent, scurrying toward his seat.

The guards kept their eyes on the scene, which I knew wasn't finished playing out. Threats like Cal's had to be followed through, or no one would respect him or his authority.

He turned his wrath on me.

Oh boy!

"You watch your ass! If you so much as sneeze wrong, I'll be making you wish you was dead. And you be calling for yo mama to protect yo sorry skin."

His fist made contact with my good eye, the one that hadn't gotten blackened and bruised at Pino's. It could've been a lot worse.

That was the first hour of my first day. I could hardly wait for the afternoon and the other seven goons who had my name high on their to-do lists.

Step's POV

_Breakfast was a meal I could skip right?_ I felt like I wanted to throw up. My dreams had been filled to the gills with Joe—and not all good images. In some of them, he'd been writhing in pain, calling out for me. Blood had been everywhere. I'd tried to touch him, but every time I did, iron bars had appeared out of nowhere, separating us completely.

After tossing and turning, I'd given up the idea of sleeping by six-thirty. Bob needed to go out, and I couldn't take him. Meg or Ranger must've made arrangements apparently, because at seven sharp a new Merry Man I didn't recognize was at the door ready to take Bob for his morning run.

It sucked not being allowed any fresh air myself. I could really use some.

The thought brought instant guilt. I could hardly complain—even silently—not when I remembered Joe, Cal, Tank and Hector would be lucky to get a walk in the prison yard daily.

The whole thing seemed like one of the nightmares I'd had.

And yet it was all too real.

Knowing I had to eat, I showered, dressed in baggy sweats and threw my hair back into a ponytail. _What if a little Morelli was already residing inside of me?_ I had to make sure he or she was properly nourished, no matter how unappetizing the idea of eating was to me.

I knocked on the seventh floor apartment, bracing myself for Ranger and his little woman.

God, the universe had a wild sense of humor. The woman who'd tried to poach Joe was with the man who'd poached me for years. Sometimes Fate bit you in the butt in the strangest ways.

_Breathe Stephanie_. She makes Batman happy. She'd also made Joe take a second look—and a third and fourth one too. And he'd kissed her—more than once. Multiple flashes snapped through my brain of her naked body underneath Joe, then Ranger, and then Joes again. _How in the hell was I expected to forget she was my worst enemy? _Thankfully my conscience took over, and I realized she and I were pretty much in the same boat; only she'd never slept with Joe. I, however, had slept with Ranger—multiple times.

_So which one of us was worse? _

Shit!

When the hell was someone going to open the damned door?

It opened suddenly, as if I'd yelled my thoughts out loud.

"Morning Stephanie."

Thankfully, Ranger was completely dressed. I'd dreaded the thought of finding him shirtless or in a silky, black robe. It would've been way too weird.

"Good morning."

I looked around, as we walked into the kitchen. No sign of his mistress in sight.

As if reading my mind, he cleared his throat before speaking. "Meg's sleeping. I didn't want to disturb her. She's still recovering from her attack."

"Yeah, she looked downright crippled last night, prancing around in that skimpy night gown." It was out, before I could put a hand in front of my mouth to stop it.

Ranger took a deep, cleansing breath. I took one too, pushing my shoulders back for his reaction.

"I realize this situation is strange for all of us."

"Do you?"

"Of course, B—Stephanie! Do you think I'm insensitive to your feelings?"

"Since when have you ever been sensitive to anything?"

"Can you keep your voice down? As I said—"

"Yes, your precious concubine is sleeping. I know!" I whispered back through gritted teeth.

"She isn't my concubine, nor is she merely my mistress," he informed me, reading my jagged, nasty thoughts.

I glared at him accusingly "Really? Then what is she Ranger? You seem pretty dead sure of what she isn't. Tell me exactly what _is_ she to you?"

"I don't owe you an explanation. You chose Morelli. I made peace with it."

"Did you? This isn't a rebound relationship?"

"No." He offered nothing more in his usual, aggravatingly cloak and dagger method.

"Can you define how she fits into your life? I knew where _my_ place always was— practically nowhere." Hands on my hips, I asked the million-dollar question.  
"Where is hers?"

He gave me a tired look. "You really want to know how I feel?"

"Yeah, I want to know."

"Why? Are you jealous?" he asked sardonically, raising a brow.

"No. But I am mighty curious."

"Shocking—you?" he teased lightly.

"I want you to be happy. I feel badly for hurting you. _Are_ you happy? Does she do that for you?"

His eyes softened. I knew already without him uttering a single word.

"Yes, she makes me very happy. She always did. I was in love with her then, but never wanted to admit it."

"So why are you now?"

It hurt a little. I mean I loved Joe with every ounce of my heart, but all those times I'd never been good enough to be more than just a sex toy for Ranger—always being relegated to a mere fucking buddy and nothing more. Now suddenly, out of the blue, he was deeply in love. It'd been Meg long before I came along.

All that time I'd wasted, fooling myself into thinking he could ever be the man for me.

It stung.

I'd nearly lost Joe over my freaking stupidity.

Ranger's lack of honesty toward me—and to himself—could've ruined my life.

"You love her."

"I do."

"In the put-a-ring-on-her-finger kind of way?" My voice hitched a bit.

"I never meant to hurt you either, but I see that I did. And I know it cost you and Morelli a lot of lost time."

"It did. More than you know. I hurt him. He forgave me, but what if he hadn't Ranger? Where would I be now?"

"Why does it matter?

"It matters, because I was just a big game to you. You lost the competition. In the end, was that what it was really about? You were always trying to steal me from Joe. You never wanted anything more than sex from me. You never really loved me did you, because you never stopped loving Meg."

"I didn't lie—about anything. It wasn't that I didn't love you. I did, but you were _his _long before I ever came into the picture. Maybe it would've been different if I'd met you first."

"No, it wouldn't have. You could never give me what I needed. You met her first too. You and I were never destined to be anything more than—"

"Than what?" he asked, his mouth turned down grimly.

"I'm not even sure anymore."

"It's all irrelevant now."

"How so?" I felt angry, sad and confused. What would Ranger and I have when this was over?

I'd move back to whatever life I had left if Joe didn't come home. Ranger would move on with his life full of Meg. If I was blessed and Joe came back to me, we'd work together. Ranger might still cross our path in the line of duty; otherwise, I doubted we'd see much of each other.

"You're happy with Morelli, and I'm finding happiness, largely due to you," he confessed quietly.

"Me? What did I do?"

"You made me see I deserved more in my life than any empty sense of noble bullshit. She wants a family. She is one hundred percent committed to me. There's no division in her feelings. With you Stephanie—I knew it would always be Morelli."

Ranger's eyes revealed long-felt annoyance, even as his lips turned up slightly at the corners. "You and he fit. It's that simple and nauseatingly true."

"We do," I agreed, remembering the feel of Joe's body fitting perfectly against mine again as we'd danced the evening before. Ranger was absolutely right.

"So we're good?"

"We are always going to be friends. I'll never stop being there for you."

"And I'll always be grateful forever to you for helping Morelli and me."

Maybe there _would_ be a way for us to remain friends.

The idea brought me relief, because I did love Ranger. He'd been such a huge part of my life for years, and I couldn't imagine us losing the best part of our friendship. Joe understood it in some weird way. As a result, maybe the three of us would be able to form a strange but necessary camaraderie that could work.

"And Meg?"

"I'll try. I know she got hurt trying to protect me."

Make that the four of us. God! The idea of including Meg in my life made our continued association suddenly seem nearly impossible.

"She's the reason you and Joe had that time together at the safe house. It was all Meg."

"Joe thought so."

"He was right. She wanted to make it up to you both. And it was her idea to take on that damned stalker by impersonating you. She wanted to smoke him out, sparing you and Morelli any more worry. If he hadn't snuck in that night, our plan would've worked, and you'd be at home right now. She _is_ in your corner Stephanie, if you'd just give her a chance."

"I said I'd try."

"Thank you."

I nodded.

He shook his head, squeezing my hand. "We'll get this right yet."

"Morning."

The object of our words stood in the doorway looking unbelievably gorgeous. It wasn't hard to see why Ranger had fallen so hard. If she was only as beautiful on the inside, I might understand the love he felt for her.

"Morning Meg," I offered reluctantly, letting go of a little of my malice toward her.

"Sorry, I guess I was more tired than I realized. I hope you two didn't wait for me?" she questioned, noticing we hadn't touched any food yet.

"No. We were just chatting a bit."

Ranger got up to pull out the chair to the right of his for her. His hands lingered on her shoulders for a moment, causing her to smile up at him sweetly. I could see the love for him in her eyes. She wasn't a threat to me. I wasn't a threat to her. Maybe someday ages from now, there was a slight chance we'd find some way to get along.

There was an even better chance we _never_ would.

"So how did you sleep, Stephanie?" she asked, obviously loving her role of hostess.

"Not well."

"Oh. Uh—do you need more blankets or pillows or—?"

"No. The apartment is fine."

She looked at Ranger. "Any word on how it's going for Joe?"

"No. And I don't expect to hear much from here on out, until I visit Tank again."

"I hope they're all home soon." She said it sincerely, gazing in my direction sympathetically.

"Yes. Soon," I echoed. _What the hell else was there to say_?

Joe's POV

It was my third day at the New Jersey State Penitentiary, and I wasn't sure I'd ever get used to the smell of the place. Oh I'd been treated to a brief whiff of it once before when I'd attended the academy. They'd wanted us to see the hideous bunker where we'd be sending the criminals we arrested to repent for their mistakes. We'd all shared disgusted looks, trying not to gag. Later that day, we'd christened it Trenton Purgatory or TP for short.

The hope was that we rookies would be very careful to ensure we had proper evidence before apprehending anyone and sending them to a punishment that could only be described as living in the bowels of sensory deprivation hell.

Everything was mortar grey—the walls, the floor and especially the mood. All the sights and sounds became monotone and colorless in that cut off from civilization environment. Hundreds of men talking sounded like a loud buzzing drone unless someone became agitated. Then it felt as though you'd entered an insane asylum, and nearly everyone there belonged in straight-jackets and white padded cells.

Even the convicts were all dressed in morbid, dead grey. The truest description was akin to living _inside_ a tombstone—a place where the handwriting wasn't 'may he rest in peace' but instead 'no rest for the wicked'.

It felt as though we were forever encapsulated within solid cement, and every chance of truly living had vanished, so you merely settled hopelessly into the graveyard that had suddenly become your life. The worms of insanity infiltrated your brain once you gave up every vestige of freedom or choice you'd ever had from birth as a God-given right.

If that wasn't bad enough, the combination of stagnating odors penetrating the air was enough to take away your appetite forever and then some. It was the pooled, pungent stench of over-loaded male testosterone, excessively fowl BO, urine drying on the rims of the cell toilets, body excrements being deposited in those toilets hourly, rancid underwear and things I didn't even want to know or think about filling the grossly, choking thick air.

What I wouldn't have given to be outside walking in the park with Stephanie, holding hands with her and watching Bob jump after butterflies, something he'd always loved doing. Steph and I would laugh at his antics and treat ourselves to an ice cream cone or a hotdog like so many times. We'd just breathe in the air and enjoy spring.

The only time I allowed thoughts of her was at our nine o'clock, pre-determined, mind messaging rendezvous, and then again after hours of twisting and turning on the uncomfortably hard, lumpy mattress. Once I'd finally fall asleep, I'd enter into a world of hodge-podge, nonsensical dreams. That was a sore disappointment, because all I wanted was to dream of my future with Stephanie.

Due to that deficiency, I'd treat myself to a few moments again when I awakened each morning. Thinking of her was the only respite I had from the dour, dark reality of my life.

During the day, I dealt with the most sordid assortment of nefarious, notorious and lowlife criminal beings ever imaginable. Caged and trapped unwillingly and discontentedly in one place, the slightest disturbance set them off into murdering, raging lunatics. Most pairs of eyes that stared into mine were soulless, lost, black holes that no longer reflected anything but depression, anger and sad resignation.

I'd yet to run into Blutto, having heard through the prison rumor mill he'd been in the infirmary for a terrible bout with gout. I was anxious to get the show on the road and was pretty damned sure he was a big key in the mystery of what had been transpiring within those prison walls.

We'd been herded out to the yard for our ten minutes of air when as luck would have it; the day was cloudy and overcast. Jeez, apparently even the sun wanted us to suffer.

Hector stayed behind, intending to get a good look through Blutto's cell. Due to his enormous size, he actually was the only single-cell occupant. He simply wasn't able to sleep on the bunk beds without tipping them over. Instead, a double-sized, single cot had been placed in his space. We figured there weren't many places he could hide anything, but it was worth a look. Maybe we'd get lucky.

I'd only had one chance to talk to the Merry Men when we'd been assigned to clean the wardens' offices together.

Cal had told me he was sorry he'd had to hit me so hard, saying his 'Cage Your Rage' (CYR for short) classes had really been helping him to express his anger in more constructive ways. The Merry Men had all been occupying some of their time taking full advantage of the myriad of self-improvement programs offered to prisoners to boost their self-esteem and encourage education.

Tank had chosen a class to improve his interpersonal socializing skills, called 'Thinking for Change?'—fondly called T4C by the inmates.

And last but not least, Hector, who'd struggled for a while with trying to master English, was happily enrolled in English 101, although I hadn't noticed from his still very broken attempt at the language where he'd garnered a lot as of yet.

I tried not to take offense when Cal had suggested I attend the CYR classes. Apparently, he'd remembered me waving my arms and getting upset a few times when Stephanie's cars had blown up or caught fire. I'd explained to him that while I appreciated his offer, I was Italian. It was a part of my heritage to wave my arms. However, I went on to tell him I'd long since come to terms with Stephanie's choice of employment. I'd not yelled at her in a very long time, nor did I intend to ever again.

He gave me a huge hug, which almost made me want to clock him in the nose. _Maybe I should rethink those CYR classes?_

Hector, while I appreciated his protectiveness, was making me slightly uncomfortable at times. I kept catching him half-smiling at me a little too appreciatively. Knowing he was gay was a bit unsettling. He knew Stephanie and I were a couple, right? Maybe I was just imagining his interest.

Shit!

Obviously, I'd already been behind bars too long. I was starting to hallucinate!

I'd been eyeing everyone in the prison yard. It seemed as though the gray skies had all of us in a subdued mood. I was glad because my mind was obviously NOT focusing on the game plan at hand.

Jesus, I missed Stephanie!

_Enough!_

I _had_ to stop allowing her into my mind. But she was there in every cell of my body—my one true addiction. I could go without watching sports, drinking beer, or even walking in fresh air. I could survive all that.

But I'd _never_ survive a life without her.

We were herded back inside, and as I made my way down the corridor, I felt a hand jerking me into a hallway. It was Hector.

"I have tings to show you."

Oh God—It wasn't my imagination. I'd have to let him down gently.

"Look Hector, I know you're a really nice guy and all, but I only play with one wo-"

"Lookie what Blutto has!"

He showed me pictures on a digital camera. What I saw made my mouth fall open in horrified shock.

_HOLY SHIT! _

Ranger's POV

I'd tried everything I could to make Stephanie as comfortable as possible. But a sad, faraway look was evident in her eyes, and I knew she wasn't herself. She barely ate anything, and other than a half-hearted smile now and then, she'd become too damned quiet. I almost wanted to say something to piss her off, just to get some life back into her.

But I was a man.

She needed a woman to talk to. Other than Ella, there was only Meg, and the last woman in the world Stephanie would want to speak to was _her_. But there wasn't any choice. If Tank was around, he might try to cheer her up by entertaining her with pictures and stories of his crazy cats. The other guys did their best, but they exchanged looks with me when her back was turned. They were every bit as concerned as I was.

"Boss, you got to do something. She looks like she's going to waste away," Lester nagged.

I had no idea of how to fix this whole mess, short of pulling the plug on the entire operation, and I was sorely tempted. The idea of Meg being put in one more minute of danger was totally repulsive to me.

Sighing in frustration, I acknowledged, "I know Lester, okay?"

"Beautiful is burying herself in the files. She hardly comes out to visit, and she isn't even smiling anymore. I was sure she'd been crying when I picked up Bob to take him out yesterday."

"I know, okay? I know," I shot back agitatedly. "I'll ask Meg to go talk to her. Maybe she can reach her from a woman's point of view."

When I approached her about it later, she protested.

"No. Carlos, that is one of the worst ideas you've ever had!"

"Then tell me what in the hell to do?"

"Does anyone around her have any idea of what is going on?"

"Eddie. No one else."

"Call _him_ then."

"I think she needs a woman to confide in."

"Well, believe me—I am the _last_ woman she'd open up to—ever!" Meg argued, shaking her head as though she thought I was the most clueless idiot on earth.

"We can't tell Lula or Connie or even that old high school friend of hers—Mary Lou. They like to gossip too much. And her mother would drive her crazy with questions and is too high on the Burg buzzing zone. Besides, I had Steph call them all to say she was out of town visiting a college friend."

I looked at her appealingly. "There's no one we can trust enough for her to confide in. You're the only one who really understands what she's going through and who knows everything."

"Okay, _fine_! I'll see what I can do. But if I come back covered in tar and feathers, you'll clean me up, won't you?" she joked feebly.

"I'll do better than that," I promised, kissing her intensely by way of thanks.

Meg's POV

Knocking on the door to Stephanie's apartment, I squared my shoulders and took a deep self-consoling breath. So she hated me. It wasn't the worst thing.

_Then why the hell did the idea of it bother me so much? _

She opened the door, and I took in her wan, drawn face. It was almost as if she were grieving.

_She hadn't given up had she?_

"Hi Stephanie, I just—uh—can I come in?"

She looked me over warily. "Why? What do you want?"

"Well, to be honest. I'm going a little stir crazy. I mean there's nothing to do, and the testosterone in this place gets a little stifling."

"And you thought you'd get an estrogen fix by coming to see me?"

She wasn't exactly welcoming me with open arms.

I offered a sincere smile. "Please? I thought you might be feeling a little closed in too."

"Okay," she agreed finally, stepping back to allow my entrance.

Rex was running like mad on his wheel, and Bob rose half-heartedly to greet me. Depression was obviously contagious.

"How is the research going?"

"Well—uh—" She swiped an errant curl off her forehead. There was a smudge of ink on her face. "It's a lot of tedious cross-checking, and so far nothing has jumped out at me."

Files were spread all over the tables. She had an almost full pot of coffee on the burner. From the pungent smell, it'd been sitting there for hours. She'd skipped lunch with us and had obviously gone to the break room. I saw a barely bitten into sandwich sitting by the computer.

"I have nothing to do until I go back to the house on Slater. Can I help you at all?"

"Uh—I—think I have it under control. I am going alphabetically first. If I don't find anything that way, I'll separate it by things in common neighborhoods, relationships to other prisoners in Trenton State and at other prisons across the state. It's just going to take a lot more time than I'd realized."

She signed deeply. Sadness was evident in her posture and her eyes.

"Stephanie, I know I'm not a friend—exactly. But I'd like you to know I want to do everything in my power to get you and Joe through this."

Her eyes filled a little at the mention of his name.

"I've been having the most horrible dreams about him."

"You have?"

Her back stiffened instantly, and I could see her quickly regretting her slip of confidence.

"I am no longer a threat to you. I want nothing more than for you and Joe to be happy together, Stephanie. No two people belong together more. He loves you like crazy."

Her eyes softened involuntarily at my words. "I love him like crazy too."

"I know, and those dreams must be awful."

"They are." She seemed relieved to finally get her feelings out—even to me. "He's alone and bleeding. There are always big iron bars between us. I can't touch or help him."

"Nightmares are the worst," I commiserated.

"Are you having any over that asshole who attacked you in my apartment?"

_Something in common_. _Now we were getting somewhere._

"Yes a few. He was like evil incarnate. Did you have them after the parking lot assault?"

She nodded silently. "I'm sorry you had to go through it too."

"It's my job. And I'd like to say I'm used to it. But you never really get used to maniacal violence."

"Tell me about it." She bit her lip. "Would you like some coffee or a soda?"

"Yes, a soda would be nice."

She fixed us both one, and we sat down in the living room area.

"His eyes stayed with me for the longest time," Stephanie reflected softly. "It felt like I'd seen them before when I gazed into them. They were dark grey and so damned haunting."

"He must've worn contacts. The guy who attacked me in your apartment had brown eyes."

"Oh man! Who the hell is he?" Her voice rose in total frustration. "I feel like I should know something more about him, but I just can't remember."

"He was very upset I wasn't you."

"Which means, he's only added you to his agenda, because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. He really wants me."

"It's more like I was in the right place, and he came at the wrong time. _Damn!_ I really wanted to get that bastard, so you'd have less to worry about while Joe was gone."

Stephanie looked sad for a moment before taking on a stubborn glow. "I _want _to hate you, Meg. I _really _do. You caused me a _lot _of anxiety over Joe, and I didn't want to _ever _forgive you for it."

"I understand."

"Good. I still feel that way. But I promised Joe and Ranger I'd try. So this is me trying."

"I appreciate it."

"Okay well you can go tell Ranger I'm fine. I need to get back to work. I have to find a way to bring Joe home sooner."

"I meant it when I offered to help you."

"I don't need anything now. If I do, I'll let you know."

"Fair enough. Will you be joining us upstairs for dinner? He's worried about you."

"Okay, tell him, I'll be there."

"Good. See you then." As I started to turn the knob on the door, I heard her footsteps approaching me. I turned expectantly.

"Be good to him," Stephanie warned in an easy tone. "He's a good man. And he loves you."

"I will. You have no reason to worry. I love him too."

Joe's POV

I felt like someone had sucker punched me in the gut.

Running my hands through my hair, I forced myself to take a second look at the unthinkable. Blutto's salacious, disgusting stash was an assortment of pictures I'd never expected to come across.

Hector had hit the jackpot. But it wasn't anything to be happy about. He'd inspected Blutto's new bed. The metal posts at the head and foot were hollow but capped by removable lids. The pictures Hector snapped were of photos Blutto had kept hidden for his sick and twisted personal enjoyment no doubt.

Of Stephanie.

He'd obviously chosen her as his latest crazy obsession. I could see by the front page headline of a newspaper, lying on the kitchen table in one of the photos that it may have begun shortly after he'd been captured. Which meant he'd had an accomplice doing his dirty work; hiding the cameras in her apartment. From the assortment of pictures, it was clearly over quite a long span of time. I deduced this by the fact some were of Stephanie, in her newly redecorated home. At some point the hidden cameras had to have been removed or wouldn't they have been detected by Ranger's men when security was installed?

_Shit—shit—shit!_

Stephanie was on a prisoner's mind all right, and not just any prisoner. He was the most diabolically, deranged man residing in the walls of this hellhole, and he was salivating over _my_ beautiful Stephanie! He had the connections to hurt her from thousands of miles away.

But what turned my acid filled stomach inside out was a picture of her within the circle of Slayers I'd never seen before. Her eyes had been filled with dread and fear, her face bruised and bleeding, and her clothing mangled and torn.

_How in the hell had he gotten that? Was he in cahoots with a gang?_ I should've sent Stephanie far away from Trenton. I should _never_ have left her alone.

In my head, I knew she wasn't alone, but my heart lurched in pain regardless. My arms ached to hold her in _my_ protective loving embrace. _Nothing _could ever hurt her. I'd die if anything did. It wouldn't matter if I was in that prison cell or free to roam the world—I'd be dead inside.

Other pictures were of her in all states of undress. Stephanie would be mortified if she knew this lunatic had been watching her, invading her privacy that way. The cameras must've been hidden everywhere. There were shots of her in the shower with a towel. One of her arms above her head, as she lay casually, across her bed stark naked; another as she made coffee in nothing but her underwear, and still another of her curled up on the couch in a skimpy see-through nightgown. They seemed never ending. The bastard had taken away all shreds of her privacy and dignity.

The rage I felt was like nothing I'd ever experienced.

_How dare he help himself to something so sacred?_ He'd never lay a finger on her. I'd kill him with my bare hands before I'd let that happen.

She was safe for now at Rangeman, and I had to believe he'd protect her. As soon as I could, I'd get word to Manoso to make certain she was never alone, under any circumstances, until this was over.

Looking up at Hector, I sensed he was a livid as I was. His flaring nostrils and his breathing quickened while he watched me absorb the seriousness of the threats against the woman I loved more than life.

My mission was now defined. My worst fears had been realized. Stephanie was in dire jeopardy. My gut told me it wasn't just Blutto who had her in his sights.

Those Slayer gang pictures had brought back the horror of what she'd almost endured that night. What if the stalker was a gang member paid by Blutto to terrorize her? What if she was on someone's hit list? Worse yet—what if it was more than one person without any connection to each other. _How in the hell would I be able to ensure her safety then?_

"We have to protect her, Hector."

"Si, we will, Jose'. Cost no matter!" he vowed loyally.

I nodded absently, wondering sadly if I'd ever be able to kiss her, touch her—or ever see her again?


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Not my characters. No Profit.

Carol and Kim, Thank you from the bottom of my heart for the help and excellent advice you gave me for this chapter. It would never have come together without the two of you. Carol, your beta skills are out of this world! Thanks for all your time and attention. You two are, wonderful blessings in my life.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone! Wow Nineteen will be here tomorrow. I hope we have some reasons to smile. And if not, then thank goodness for Cupcake fanfic!

Readers you are amazing in your support and loyalty. Thanks to you for everything!

I am NOT an expert on writing foreign accents and I apologize in advance, to anyone who might be of Bulgarian descent.

Ranger's POV

Tank watched me strut back and forth in the warden's office of the prison, having been summoned three days before my regularly scheduled visit.

Blowing out aggravated air, I made a fist then let it loose, then made it again. I wanted to kill Blutto right then and there. That would end this impossibly fucked up mess for good!

"Boss, you've got to get a grip."

"I know! How in the hell did Morelli keep from murdering that sleazy son of a bitch the moment he saw these pictures?" I hissed, still dealing with an overload of adrenaline.

"He wanted to, believe me. He did over two hundred push-ups and swore under his breath with each one. But he knows he has to play this carefully. He understands what's at stake. The guys and I respect him tremendously. He's got solid control—and guts." Tank was careful to keep his voice barely above a whisper. "He's a good guy and cop."

"I've always said that!" I snapped defensively, feeling damned responsible for this entire situation.

Morelli and Stephanie would be home together—married—and probably with a couple of babies by now if it hadn't been for me. I shouldn't have poached. _What if she never got her happy ending with him because of me?_ My Karmic debts would never end.

"And it didn't hurt that Blutto is in the infirmary," Tank added, smirking.

"He is? I hope it's a terminal disease."

"I heard it is gout."

I snorted. _Wouldn't you know it?_ He'd probably live to be a hundred!

"How am I going to show her these?" I held up the bulging, manila envelope full of the goddamned pictures. "I have to, you know? This is _my_ fault. We're the ones who should've had the cameras set up this whole time to catch this asshole and whoever the hell is doing his dirty work for him!"

"Too late now," Tank offered pragmatically.

"I've got to go take care of this."

"Ranger?"

"Yeah?"

"How is everything with you and Meg?"

Tank was the only one of my men I'd ever confided in about my personal life. He'd known about my feelings for Stephanie and had sensed my renewed relationship with Meg almost before I had.

"It's new and weird and familiar all at the same time," I admitted.

"You love her," he said simply.

"Yes. I'm no good at this though, Tank. You know me. I'll probably fuck it up."

He frowned. "Give yourself some credit. You'll do fine. Just watch that temper of yours and try to open up to her. You have to let someone in someday—might as well do it sooner than later."

He knew me too well.

"I know. She's perfect for me in many ways. It's just this whole thing—the mission, the stalker, her going back to Slater to become bait. I hate it all!"

"I bet she does too," Tank offered sympathetically.

I sighed. "She feels like a caged animal not being able to go outside or roam freely. Today she was climbing the walls. I thought she was going to hit me with a frying pan when I suggested baking or reading a novel. The accountant left the books with some of his notes for me to go over, and out of desperation, I asked if she'd look for ways to cut our budget." Rolling my eyes, I added, "God knows what we'll be going without once she puts her two cents in."

Tank gave me a look of horror.

"Don't worry—I won't let her take away anything to do with cigars, cars or entertainment. Now I just have to figure out what to distract her with tomorrow." I shook my head. Women were never easy creatures to keep happy.

My best friend's face stopped contorting after my assurances.

"I'll see you soon. I'm afraid this is going to send Stephanie over the edge." Frowning, I cautioned, "_Don't _repeat that to Morelli. He's got enough to deal with."

"He does. Don't worry, boss—we've got his back. Tell Stephanie 'hello' from us."

Nodding, I took my leave.

Steph's POV

I'd been over the damned files so many times my eyes were burning and bloodshot from too much reading and so little sleep. It'd gotten to where I didn't even want to sleep anymore, because every time I had dreams of Joe. They'd be happy and wonderful at first, but then suddenly we'd be ripped from one another's arms, cruelly separated by walls, or bars or some evil unseen monster that got his jollies by keeping us apart. The wicked laughter would echo in my head long after I'd awakened.

A hard, insistent knock came at the door. Opening the door, I found Ranger staring at me without saying a word.

"You coming in or what?" I asked, stepping back to allow his entrance.

"You've lost a lot a weight," he noted, taking inventory of my appearance. "Are you okay? Your clothes are hanging on you, and you're awfully pale."

I rolled my eyes at him. "I'm fine. Pale could have something to do with not being allowed outside in over a week. As for weight—a girl can always stand to lose a few pounds. I'd think you'd be happy—my body being a temple and all."

"Stephanie, this isn't you getting healthier. I've noticed how little you're eating. Are you feeling sick at all?"

"I'm fine! Get a grip. What brings you here anyway?"

"I—uh—how is the research going?"

"Okay, I guess. I don't know if it's my Spidey sense or what, but I just keep coming back to Blutto. That Bulgarian crime lord is connected to the entire cell phone debacle somehow—I just know it! Do you remember when we investigated him before his arrest? You brought up the research, and it was enough to make the hairs on my back stand on end. Bobby Sunflower kidnapped Vinnie because he'd duped the new partners holding ownership on the Bond's office. Remember how we connected Blutto to the Wellington Corporation and figured out he was behind everything—the Mercer building being bombed and the Bond's office going up in smoke?"

"He's not an easy asshole to forget," Ranger responded dryly.

"His favorite weapon of choice was a chain saw—which was creepy as hell. He was—I can't recall everything. I was just about to pull it up again on the computer to see what I'm forgetting or missing."

Ranger was strangely quiet.

"What's going on? What aren't you telling me?"

Panic hit in a heartbeat.

"Oh my God! Is it Joe? Did something horrible happen?" My hand went over my mouth, as my heart dove to depths beyond anything I'd ever experienced.

"God, no! He's fine. I just came from there." Ranger patted my shoulder comfortingly. "I'm sorry, I never meant to make you think that."

I sat down, holding my hand over my still wildly, palpitating heart. "Shit! Ranger, you scared the crap out of me!"

Ranger's POV

The woman, who'd opened the door to me minutes ago, wasn't completely present on Haywood Street. It wasn't the lost weight or the appearance as much as her essence was divided—made evident by the faraway look in her eyes. Without a doubt, I knew exactly where that missing part of Stephanie had gone.

Guilt flamed over me like a hot branding iron. She'd been right. I _had_ viewed our relationship as a competition with Morelli. I'd been a real jerk to her, and it was time to confess my culpability—not that I'd changed much. But for Stephanie and I to maintain a friendship, I needed to come clean with her. Maybe then it would be easier to confide things to Meg too.

Reluctantly swallowing a mouthful of humble pie, I began, "Stephanie, I have to apologize to you."

"You? Apologize?" Her eyebrows rose quizzically. "For what?"

"For doing exactly what you accused me of."

She seemed to be genuinely clueless. "Refresh my memory."

"You said I'd treated my relationship with you as a competition with Morelli and—after having given it considerable thought—I realized you are correct. I concur with your assessment."

"You concur?" She laughed. "Wow, haven't we gotten formal."

"Do you remember what almost happened between us in my office upstairs the night we looked up Blutto's background?" _God, would my past ever stop biting me in the ass? _

She blushed. "Why are we going back to that?" Her voice had a distinctive edge to it.

"Because I feel responsible for so much of what is happening right now. I wanted to get you drunk that night and seduce you. If it weren't for the fire at the bond's office, it would've happened."

"I know. But you weren't alone. I was there too, and I'm just as much to blame. I'm not proud of how I treated Joe then—and everything before and after that night too. It wasn't like me to do that to him so callously."

"It _was_ like me. And I regret that my actions have cost you so much. Morellli, too," I added, knowing he deserved some consideration.

"Thank you. It's in the past, Ranger. He forgave me. I should never have done what I did, and it's going to be hard to let go of my guilt for a long time to come. But I'm working on it. The fact that I'm here at Rangeman is proof of how much Joe loves me. I'm not about to forget it ever again."

"I need to say one more thing, and then we can put this to rest."

"Okay."

"The night of the fire—looking back on it, it was one of many times I acted like the mercenary I am. I had you ask him to follow you home. I used him when it was convenient to help take care of you, but dismissed his importance whenever I tried stealing you away."

"It's okay, Ranger. I was aware of what was happening, and I let it happen as much as you did."

"No. It's not okay. He's willing to give his life up for you, and I—I" Scoffing at my stupidity and selfishness, I continued, "I constantly disparaged him and made his love for you seem insignificant when I knew full well he was crazy about you."

She swallowed hard. "I knew it too."

"I just wanted to tell you how much I regret not being honest about everything. My motives were not clear—even to me. I loved you. Never doubt that. I still do as a friend, and always will. But I know now it was unfair of me to string you along when your future has always been meant with him."

"Why are you saying this now?"

"I'm not sure. I just—maybe because now that I have Meg, I realize how it would feel to have someone try to steal her away."

"Thanks for telling me.

"There's something else I've been avoiding, and you need to know about it."

"Shit! Something did happen to Joe?" Her face crumbled as she got to her feet. "How the hell could you keep anything—"

"I swear to you—he's fine. Sit down. It's okay. Everything is going be okay."

"You need to tell me now what the hell is going on," she demanded stubbornly, holding her ground.

"Please—sit down. I promise Joe is fine!"

Stephanie finally sat on the couch, and I took the chair next to her.

"Your instincts about Blutto are dead on as usual. He _is_ definitely the madman behind a shitload of what is happening in that prison."

A little spark returned in her eyes. "That's good, right?" she asked eagerly. "I just have to go back and figure out what the connections are."

_God, I hated this!_

"You do—yes, but first—" I lowered my head, and then raised my eyes to connect with hers. "Hector searched his cell. He has pictures of you."

"Why me?" she asked, puzzled. "What kind of pictures?"

Stephanie's innate curiosity was on overload and her pitch heightened from the added stress. "Where did he get them?"

"The kind of pictures no woman would want a demented convict to have."

"But how? I never posed for any—"

"Someone cameras rigged in your apartment. My men went over it with a fine toothcomb. They're gone now, but they found evidence they were there. Judging from how many there were and the time frame they encompassed, Blutto had them installed for quite a while."

"That sleazebag has been stalking me from prison?" She jumped up, both hands balled into fists. "What the fuck! What the hell does he want with me? Who helped him do it?"

Her eyes were on fire; furious that her privacy had been desecrated, and I made up my mind she was not going to see those pictures. It was bad enough she knew they'd been taken. I couldn't cause her further humiliation.

Steph's POV

"I want to see them."

"_No—you don't_!" Ranger shook his head negatively.

"I'm _going_ to see those pictures. I have a right to know what I'm up against, Ranger. It was _MY_ privacy invaded!"

It hit me that Joe had seen them already. _God, what had that done to him? _

Mortified, I had to know. "Did Joe see them?" _How would he ever look at me the same way, knowing that demented bastard in prison had seen me naked?_

Ranger looked at me steadily. "He had to Stephanie. He's got to know what he's up against too."

"You're not telling me the truth. He'd go crazy! Did he kill Blutto? He'd sure as hell want to."

"No. You and I both know Morelli is a better man and cop than that. He'll bide his time and play this smart. He knows what's at stake. If anything, I'm sure this has just increased his resolve to make the son of a bitch pay more."

Pacing, I fretted, "God! I'm so worried about him. And now I'm _really_ afraid he'll get hurt. He's got to be so angry."

I needed to see the pictures and face this monster's torment head on_. Why the hell was Ranger keeping them from me?_

"I promise we'll get him and the asshole who is helping him. Are you going to be okay?"

"I will be—once I see those pictures."

"Morelli specifically asked me through Tank not to show them to you."

"No, he _didn't_!" I snapped. "He promised I'd be left out of _nothing_, and he'd never break that promise. You're a horrible liar, Ranger. And don't you _dare _use my vulnerability where Joe is concerned to manipulate me into letting this go! Now you get me those fucking pictures, or I'll scratch Meg's eyes out the next time I see her. No more Ms. Phony Polite for you, Joe or her!"

He narrowed his eyes warningly. "You think blackmail will work on me?"

My gaze shot a bullet right through him. "You _know_ I _can_ handle it. I need to see what he captured on film. Otherwise, I'll be imagining way worse than what it is."

Suddenly, it hit me why he was being so uncooperative, and my heart sank deeper.

"Tell me the truth. Did he get Morelli and me in bed—or—oh God—NO!" My hand shot over my mouth in humiliation and lingering guilt. "For the love of God! Tell me it's not you and me. If Joe had to see that—omigod—is that why you brought our past up—?"

"No!" he interrupted quickly. "Only of you alone. You're right—you need to see them." Nodding in resignation, he opened his jacket to produce the dastardly photos.

Sitting down, I took the over-stuffed envelope he offered and slowly opened it, dreading what I was about to experience.

As I gazed over the sordid assortment of candid shots, it felt as though my entire being had been truly invaded—almost as if I'd been raped. There I was in all my naked glory, thinking I'd had been alone in the privacy of my home. My hands shook, as my eyes filled with enraged tears.

"That fucking bastard—I'm going get him. I won't leave one fucking stone unturned. Between Morelli and me, he'll be damned sorry he tangled with us!"

All the photos fell like a deck of playing cards, tumbling from my hands as I stared, completely appalled by the last one. I had _no_ idea _that_ moment had been captured on film. Immediately I was mentally returned to the dire predicament I'd been in at the time—surrounded by the most diabolically scary gang members imaginable. My death had most certainly been imminent, and the memory brought back the trembling uncertainty I'd felt then.

"Freaking hell, how did he get this?" My quaking hand held it up to show Ranger, knowing full well he'd already seen it.

"He must have a connection to someone from the Slayers or another gang who now has a former Slayer in its membership."

"I can't believe it! Do you think the stalker is a gang member?"

"Could be. We won't know a lot more until Blutto is released from the infirmary."

"Why is he there? Did someone beat him up? If it wasn't Joe, was it Tank or—"

"Apparently he had a bout of bad gout."

"Good! I hope he rots with it!"

"Me too." His eyes examined me, full of concern "Do you need a woman to talk—"

"Don't you dare sic Meg on me again!" I popped back up. Standing with my back against the wall, I combed my hand through my hair.

"She only wants to help you."

"Does she know about these? Has she seen them?" Panic I'd never experienced before infested me. It felt like my whole life had been ripped open for everyone to see. The _last _thing I needed was for Meg to witness it too.

"No, not yet. I thought I should tell you about them first."

"_Please _don't show them to her."

"Stephanie, she'sanFBI operative on this case. She _will_ see those photos. It's her job to know everything that's going on. She was attacked too, remember? She won't think less of you."

"Okay, fine. But no one else! And I don't want her coming down here to give me some phony ass shoulder to cry on again either!"

"She wasn't doing that."

"Save it! Look Ranger—knowing my private life is on display to a lowlife, seedy criminal is the last straw for me. I have enough on my plate, and—"

He held up his hand to stop my worries. "I understand. No one will approach you about them—I promise."

"Thanks. I need to keep this as quiet as possible. The fewer people—" I shook my head in denial, placing my fingers over my throbbing temples. "Who the hell am I kidding? That entire prison full of reprobates could have copies of them by now."

My voice broke. "I c—can't believe it. With this happening, my stalker could be anybody. How in the hell will we ever find out who it is?"

"We'll get to the bottom of this, and the bastard will pay."

He walked over and gave me a short, comforting hug.

I forced a wan smile. "Thanks for coming straight to me with this."

"I wouldn't have wanted it to come from anyone but me."

"It feels like I'm going to be in hiding here forever."

"No. Once Morelli makes mincemeat of Blutto, you'll be exactly where you want to be—with him."

"You really believe that, Ranger? I need someone to believe it, because it feels like it might never happen right now." I couldn't hide the dejection overwhelming me. Not even a week, and already it felt like it'd been years.

"I do. I'll make it happen," he promised.

"If only you could."

Joe's POV

I'd heard through the prison buzzards that Blutto would be returning to his cell today. I was so ready to meet up with that villainous piece of shit. Inside, I wanted to make dust out of him and bury him. But he was going to be clueless about that. I had bigger and better plans for him. The evil bastard wasn't going to know what hit him when the tables were turned. I'd let him think he had me like a pawn in the palm of his hand, but I'd be the one squeezing the life out of his warped and blackened, double-bypassed heart.

Checkmate.

Ranger had been to see Tank yesterday with copies of the photos. He'd probably showed them to Stephanie by now. I could only imagine how violated she'd be feeling. Wishing like hell I could see her for just a minute or two to comfort her, it killed me not to be there when she needed me most. The best I could do was our nightly nine o'clock messages. I hoped with all my heart she had gotten the one I'd sent her last night.

"_Hey Cupcake. I miss the hell out of you. I don't want you to worry your beautiful curly head over this. I'll get him, Steph. He'll be fucking sorry he so much as glanced your way. Don't let him take anything from you. Trust me, baby—it doesn't diminish your worth a notch in my eyes. No one will ever come near you or hurt you as long as I'm breathing. Thinking of you every day is the only true escape from this place I allow myself. Those moments are heaven for me. Our time together was something I'll never forget. Memories of it keep me warm and sane. I love you beyond_ _imagination. Try not to worry so much about me." Always Morelli. _

I wasn't about to transmit anything sexually suggestive because of the damned photos. I didn't want her feeling cheapened in any way. She meant so much more than that to me.

Smiling wide, I'd picked up her thoughts—always my brave, tough but sweet to the core Cupcake.

_"Morelli, I know you're fit to be tied over those damned pictures. But you listen to me. Don't you dare do anything crazy. I don't give a shit what that slimy snake has in his possession. He will never come near me. I know you'll get him when he least expects it. The only thing I want or need—is you. You hear me, tough guy? No big heroics. Get that beautiful ass home where it belongs. I promise I'll work day and night to make it happen. You better be ready when you come back, because have I ever got plans for you! You'll be in all my dreams. Love you," Stephanie. _

We were back in synch at least, and it felt amazingly good.

The guard at breakfast showed sudden concern about a cut on my arm and insisted I go to the infirmary to have it looked at. I'd gotten it from a jagged nail jutting out from some shelves in the cleaning supply room. Assuring him I was fine, he was oddly insistent. When Tank started to get up off his chair, I signaled him surreptitiously to stay put. There was more to this, but what exactly, I wasn't sure.

Making our way down the hall toward my medical checkup, a gigantic man suddenly filled the entire corridor. He was talking to a guard behind him, as if they were long lost buddies. Shuffling noisily, his feet scraping on the floor, he was barely able to lift one leg after the other.

Sounding like the Godfather with a Bulgarian accent, his body was akin to Jabba the Hutt—resembling a giant, slimy slug. His face was bluish in color, and his neck began to flush red the moment his fiendish black eyes met mine.

_Fuck._

This was going to be next to impossible!

Wanting to smash his sanctimonious face in until my hand met the back of his head, I envisioned a deformed, flattened monster as my end result. But I had to maintain my emotionless persona and make sure he couldn't read anything in my body language.

Payday was coming. I consoled myself with that and forced a huge, welcoming grin.

"Blutto! Just the man I was hoping to see!"

He did a double-take.

_Good. He'd be doing a LOT of those before I was through._

I wanted him so screwed around he'd never see the pointblank range missile heading right between his eyes! It was only a matter of time before it happened, and he'd be sorry he ever laid eyes on me. More importantly, if he lived, he'd regret having given Stephanie a mere thought.

"I've been wanting to talk to you, Morelli. You need my protection here. You have _big_ following of criminals _loving_ to put you six feet under for putting them in jail."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, is so," he huffed, "and dose people with vendetta against you have NOTHING on me."

"What did I ever do to you?"

"You were there when I arrested. That enough. But add to that, I juz don't like you."

"Why? You don't even know me."

"Oh, but I know where you been, and who you been with." His spine-chilling smile was creepy and sickening.

The hair on my arms rose. The way he'd said it left no doubt about the subject of his disdain.

"Speak English. What the hell are you talking about?"

"Stephanie Plum."

I let out a harsh, dumbfounded laugh. "Are you kidding me? That was what I like to refer to as my 'stupid ass period'. I'm so over that bitch." I held up my hand, showing off the gold band on my left ring finger. "I'm married now—and thankfully not to _that_ whore."

I silently prayed Stephanie would never know the things I'd been forced to say about her.

He snickered. "You were wit her ze _long_ time."

"Yeah? Well, I didn't know what a cheating liar she was then, did I?" I pasted on a self-disgusted frown.

"She kicked you in balls, huh? That's what I know she be like. A woman whose flagrant disobedience needs disciplined, ferocious taming." His eyes gleamed. "I'm man to do it."

It was all I could do not to kill him with my bare hands—right then and there.

"Good luck—she was, without a doubt, the worst mistake of my life!"

Blutto's toothy grin, filled with dental silver, widened. "Good. Then we see eye to eye on her."

"Why in the fuck are you wasting my time talking about her?"

"I vanted to make sure you not harboring—how you say—residual feelings."

"I snorted. "Have you seen my wife? I have all I can handle dealing with _her_. She's a spitfire and way better in the sack than that Plum psycho ever dreamed of being!"

_Forgive me, Cupcake._

"I'd like to meet your wife."

"Why?" I tensed up, letting him think it rattled me he wanted to see Kate. "What could you possibly want with her?"

"Do you have picture?" he asked, his mouth nearly salivating.

"Yeah."

"Well show me! Don't you vant to brag to Blutto bout your bride?" He coaxed like a hissing snake.

I pulled it out of my back pocket. He whistled, but it sounded whispery from shortness of breath. His eyes dilated blacker.

"Hot. Spicy."

The way he fought for every breath, I'd be surprised if Blutto lived another year. _If only he'd keel over that very second!_ I never wanted to see anyone dead that badly in my life.

"Sorry to say, she's out of town right now. She's somewhat pissed at me for landing in jail. Women!" I groused, showing revulsion.

"That kind iz high maintenance. I know—I had four wives." He held up four fat stubby fingers. "All needed too much."

"She's a big reason why I'm here. Do you think I could have landed that sexy body on a cop's salary?"

He laughed before coughing his guts out.

"Yez, your new life of crimes—another topic we discuss," he wheezed.

"What the fuck does that have to do with you?"

"Ways I see it," he said in a gruff low voice, "you can be beaten or you can be joined."

I laughed mockingly over his mangled attempt at English.

"Maybe I over-estimated your desires to live. Maybe if you don't show me respect I deserve, I let circling vultures have your traitorous carcass."

"Your call."

I could play egomaniac eccentric with the best of them. After all, hadn't I had Manoso as my perfect example all those years?

"You don't put great deal of value on your life."

My eyes flashed insolence. "I don't put a great deal of importance on your delusions of controlling me."

His laughter was a hoarse gasp. "You got guts. I give you that."

"More than you know," I agreed, smiling wickedly.

_He was going to find out just how gutsy I was._

"We need to have little talk."

"I thought we just did."

"Private like," he informed me, crooking his neck to send the guards off in separate directions.

Grabbing my arms, he pushed me into an office, barely sliding through the door sideways. He shut it hard and locked it. _Had he been this big when we arrested him at the house of terrors in Pennsylvania?_

He pointed to a chair, and I sat with my back slouched and ankles crossed, as though I was about to watch my favorite sporting event.

"You know we have things common."

"We do?"

"Yeah, I used to be cop in Varna Bulgaria—put fifteen years there. Wanted more life—just like you."

"You are _nothing_ like me," I sneered with attitude.

"You right. I wasn't so dumb I got caught!"

My eyes narrowed, but I remained silent.

"I ask you questions." His throat seemed clogged causing his words to come out sounding nasally.

"What kind of questions?"

"I want to hear. What she like to fuck?"

_Oh Shit._

_Keep your cool. Don't do what you're fantasizing right now. No looks. NO emotion. DON'T GIVE IT AWAY! THIS IS STEPHANIE'S LIFE IN THE BALANCE! _

"What woman are you talking about? My wife? I've fucked a lot of 'em, you know. Terri Gilman?"

"No. Ms. Plum."

"I thought we already discussed this. I'm married. I have no interest in that cheating slut."

"You did though, long time. I know this thing. I decide she worth _my_ attentions now. She's deceptively ordinary, but when those beeg blue eyes of hers flashed me in kitchen the day I arrested, I got hard on not had in years. Need to know. Tell me what it's like be on top of her and—"

I snorted. "God, you sure as hell know how to pick 'em!" She is ordinary with a capital O!"

"You lying. You with her for years."

"Why would I lie? I was crazy to ever think she was worth a moment of my time. She's a _lying,_ two faced—"

"Why should I believe you? What she do to make you turning on her?"

"She couldn't be faithful if her life depended on it—just like every other woman I've ever been with. She was off having sex with her boss, and when I found out, I wanted to kill her. NO woman cheats on Joe Morelli! But she sure as hell did—in every alley she could find with that demented asshole. You're crazy if you get yourself tangled with her. She's a nut case." I hit my fist hard on my leg for emphasis.

"I hear her cars—they go smoking?" he grunted, somewhat amused.

"Yeah—and her apartment too. Bounty Hunting!" I grumbled. "More like garbage collecting—literally. I pulled her out of more shit than I want to tell you. Why the hell are you so interested in her anyway?" I asked, as though he was just asking for trouble.

His eyes narrowed to shiny slits, weighing the intent of my question.

"I find me intrigued by her. You know, she took money from Bobby Sunflower—his _own_ money! He sweating he could not pay me and kidnapped Vinnie Plum to get ransom. That woman was shittin' resourceful to find money to get Vinnie out by stealing under Sunflower's nose. Be damned if little witch didn't pay his own money to him."

Blutto made the crazy gesture. "He had _no_ clue. Moron! He twist in wind over it. I no tell. Got money he owed. How didn't matter. Tenacity of bitch thrilled me!"

His cackling laughter, followed by long heaves of lost breath, made my stomach turn to pure acid. Everything in me wanted this bogus charade to end. I wanted to fucking kill him.

"She isn't that smart—trust me!" I scoffed, wishing I could twist his thick neck and leave his bulgy eyes gaping open for eternity.

"Hard to do with circumstances. You not honorable or smart. Crooked cop got caught."

My tone was steely. "Don't underestimate me. You think Plum is smart? You have _no_ idea what I'm capable of."

"That so?"

"I'll make you the Crime LORD of New Jersey—hell, the whole United States. The other kingpins will be bowing down to _you._ I've got connections and inside information you've only dreamed of," I boasted cockily.

"More crooked cops on force?" he mused.

"You want things from me. I want a piece of the action. I could be of great value to you. Together we'd make a formidable team."

"Not interested in partner, Morelli. _If _work for me—you not equal. First must decide if I allow you to live. You've got proving coming. No one gets to work with me easily. There's initiation period."

"What do you want?"

"I want more Stephanie."

"I don't know anything more. I tell you she was a mistake—I've moved on. Why? Are you thinking of recruiting her as one of your assets?"

"Something like. I've got plans to her." He hacked on his words.

"From prison?"

"I have ways, Morelli."

_Over my dead body, you deluded excuse for a cockroach!_

"If you want protection, Morelli, you're going to earn it."

"What makes you think I want YOUR protection?"

"If you don't, you be dead—soon."

"You're threatening me?"

"Promising. Stay on bad side, my promises become reality—fast!"

"You have plans for me?"

"That revealed in time."

"When?"

"Conversation over."

He got up and waddled to the door. Unlocking it, he disappeared from sight. As if on cue, my guard reappeared, taking my elbow and leading me to the medical clinic. I made a mental note to inform our agent in the warden's office of the two guards obviously on Blutto's payroll. They needed to be watched—closely.

**Steph's POV**

Three weeks had passed since Ranger had shown me the photos. From his subsequent visits to the prison, I knew so far Joe had not been hurt any further. Apparently, even the most hard-nosed criminals were intimidated by the Merry Men and their iron fists.

Thank God.

Every day I forced myself to go to the seventh floor for lunch—and dinner most evenings. So far Meg and I had maintained civility.

That night, waiting to be let in for the evening routine, I felt my nerves particularly on edge. Being incarcerated at Rangeman was a prison all its own. I wasn't the type of person to sit on my hands doing nothing. I LOVED my freedom. I missed the simple joy of buying myself a cup of coffee and a donut or shooting the breeze with the girls at the bonds office. I liked to go where the day took me. Only I wasn't allowed to go anywhere. I had almost no free will.

The only good thing was the fact I was five days late. I didn't dare place too much expectation on it, as my emotions were all over the place. It could just as easily be stress. But Five days! Funny, I'd been five days late after the first time Joe and I made love at the Tasty Pastry too. I hadn't been pregnant then, and I knew there was a chance I might not be now either. But, oh God, I was praying for it. I wanted it to be true—desperately.

The door swung open to show Meg wearing a revealing blue jersey dress. It made me look like a bag lady in my jeans and v-necked shirt. My hair needed washing, and my face had seen better days. Up until then, we'd maintained a tentative truce, but seeing her looking so rested and like a damned model in that dress made me feel inferior and ugly and more on edge than ever.

"Going out?" I asked facetiously.

"Oh. Uh—God—I wish, but no! Stephanie, I just had Ella take a tray down to you. I hope you don't mind. Ranger's been so busy lately. We've hardly had any time alone together. I thought we'd uh—"

Ranger suddenly appeared behind me in the doorway. "Stephanie is more than welcome to join us, Meg."

"Of—of course I just thought—"

"You thought wrong. She's my guest. I want her to join us any time she chooses." He took my hand, pulling me into the apartment.

Shit! There was trouble in paradise already, and the last thing I wanted or needed was to be stuck in the middle of it.

"I thought since I was going back to Slater next week you might want to have dinner alone—at least for one night." Meg's face had turned crimson, and I knew she was angry by the phony smile pasted on her face.

"We'll have time later."

"Why don't you just enjoy your dinner with Stephanie. I've lost my appetite." She turned on her five inch FMP's and disappeared into their bedroom. The door slamming loudly made the tension rise even further.

"Look, Ranger—Meg's right. You two need some time—obviously. I'm fine with eating in my apartment."

"She was out of line!" he barked.

"No, she wasn't. A woman wanting time alone with the man she loves is natural. I don't blame her." I said, suddenly feeling even more a third wheel than before. "If Joe were here, I'd kick you out too." I smiled a little at that certainty.

"I know you miss him," he acknowledged.

"And you're going to miss _her_. She's putting her life on the line too, Ranger."

"Don't remind me."

"You need to fix this, and I'm getting really hungry. So have your evening, and I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks. I suck at this."

"You'll get it right. You just have to put yourself in her shoes a little."

"If I wore those shoes, I'd be the laughing stock of Trenton," he joked, sighing deeply.

"Goodnight, Ranger."

"Goodnight."

Meg's POV

Grabbing my suitcase from the closet, I began to pull a stack of sweaters from his closet.

I felt ridiculous. _Why stay there one more day? _Slater house was empty and waiting. _What was a few days early?_

The handle on the door turned as I tossed the clothing into the suitcase. Ranger immediately winced, eying it and the tears pouring down my cheeks.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm moving back to Slater tonight."

He was across the room in two steps, grabbing the sweaters from the suitcase and throwing them back into the closet.

"No!" his voice boomed. "You'll go when I say you go."

"What the hell—are you some kind of caveman? You decide everything and order me to comply? I don't _think_ so, buddy!" Pulling the sweaters back out, I threw them harder into the suitcase.

With one hand, he swiped the suitcase off the bed, my things flying all over as it crashed to the floor.

"You can't stop me, Carlos."

I could see he was furious by the set of his jaw.

Good.

I was too.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Have you lost your mind? It's NOT time for you to leave, and I'll be damned if you're going to go while you're this angry with me!"

"Do you even have a clue as to why I'm angry?" I asked, backing up against the wall.

"No—I'm guessing it's about Stephanie, and us not having private time for dinner."

"You're such an idiot!"

"It's not about dinner?"

"No, you—yes, it's about that—and a shitload of other things too!"

Ranger's POV

I folded my arms across my chest. "Okay then—let's go eat the damned dinner."

"You have _got _to be kidding me? I tell you many things are wrong in our relationship, and this is your reaction?" Her voice grew higher and more strained. She was no closer to changing her mind about leaving.

"Fine, Meg—tell me everything I'm doing wrong." I admit it didn't come out sincerely, but who could blame me? With women it was usually more than I wanted to know.

"Forget it!" She resumed pulling her clothing off the hangers.

Shit!

Tank's words echoed in my head—'hold your temper', and then Steph's more recent advice, 'put yourself in her shoes'. Both helped me take a breath.

I placed my hand gently on her back. "I want to know what I'm doing to upset you."

"Where do I begin?" she asked, her green eyes accusing me of God only knew what.

"That much, huh?"

"You're the one who asked me to look at your books and trim the budget."

"I did, and you never said a word to me about it afterward."

"When have we had time to talk, Carlos? You disappear the minute you wake up and don't come back until mealtime. Afterward, you evaporate like smoke again. It's been this way since you showed Stephanie those pictures. You're either working or down there with her every single night!"

"I haven't been—"

"Yes, you sure as hell have!" she sniped at me.

"I'm worried about her."

"Oh, I _know_! I saw how much worry you've poured into her over the last four years!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've blown your budget consistently over her. Do you know how many hundreds of thousands of dollars you've given her to blow up? The surveillance cost alone is astronomical. Paying your men to watch her and track her and—"

"I know. Okay? I know! I probably went a little overboard, but she wasn't doing too well on her own—"

"Are you still in love with her? You need to be honest with me, Carlos." Her eyes clouded, and I could see her pain.

"I love _you_. I don't know how many more times or more ways you want me to say it than I already have," I responded with frustration.

"It might be easier to believe if you hadn't murmured her name in your sleep repeatedly last night!" she accused.

"I didn't do that."

"You did!"

"I did?" My mouth fell open. My lack of disclosure with Meg had resulted in me exposing my inner most thoughts in a very hurtful way. "It's not the reason you're thinking."

"Tell me then."

I shook my head, wishing I could shake the damned responsibility I still felt.

"Guilt—it's been eating away at me! Can you believe it? Me—the big, heartless mercenary—having a bout of conscience about—?"

"Keeping her from, Joe." Meg finished my sentence perfectly. She really knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.

"Yes."

"Join the club. Been there—done that."

"When I saw those pictures of her, I felt horrible. All the protecting I've tried to do, and somehow that got by me."

"Go on," Meg encouraged, sitting on the bed. She still had her socks between her hands.

I took the seat facing her. "None of this should be happening now. She should've married Morelli a long time ago. I knew he was it for her, and I behaved very selfishly. She accused me of it the first morning she arrived here, and she was right. It was a game. I spent money, gave her cars, my men's protection. And I did all of it, thinking I could stop her from loving him—never intending to make what we had permanent."

"You did love her."

"Yes, but I pulled out all the stops determined to win. I could never offer her the life he could—the life she really wanted. I was mostly aware of what I was doing when I tore her away from him." I was embarrassed to admit it, but Meg needed to fully realize what she was in for too.

I smiled sadly. "Do you even want me, Meg? I'm not good at long term anything. It might take all night for you to go down the list of faults you're finding—after being with me a short time."

Her eyes softened. "I love you, Carlos, and the last thing I want to do is leave you—even to go to Slater for a little while. But I'm not sure you want the same thing. Maybe this is too much for you, too soon."

"It's not." I said the words, but inside I wondered the same thing.

"You can bail out. It hasn't gone too far, and nothing between us is etched in stone. It's okay, Carlos. I'll understand." Tears were pooling in her eyes.

"I don't want to lose you, Cobre." _I didn't!_ The mere idea of it was enough to twist my guts.

"You're not sure. I can see the doubt in your eyes." She saw through me so easily.

"Give me another chance. I never meant to hurt you by murmuring Stephanie's name in my sleep. I _am _trying to make up for my past mistakes without banishing myself from having a life. I can't change overnight."

"I'm not asking you to."

"I promise after this whole thing is over. You and I will have some time—lots of time. Alone. You'll be my number one priority, and Stephanie will not require anything more from me than friendship. Can you live with that?"

"I know you want to be—"

My finger shushed her, while my other hand cupped her face. "Stay with me."

"I'll stay, but I'm not promising anything. We'll see how it goes tomorrow."

"I hope to win you over with what goes on _tonight._ Do you know how much I want to throw you on that bed and have my way with you?"

"Throw me anywhere, Carlos, and you'll be hanging out a seventh story window."

I laughed, revising my vision. "Gently lie you on the bed and make mad passionate love all night?"

"Now you're talking." She laughed softly, as I pulled her into my arms, kissing her voraciously and leaving no doubt she was first and last in my heart.

Joe's POV

Walking the prison yard on our ten-minute jaunt wasn't so bad. We had sunshine and blue skies. God, I'd never take a simple thing like breathing in fresh air for granted again as long as I lived.

I hadn't heard anything more from Blutto since our initial meeting. He frequently caught my eye though, as if constantly evaluating my worth to him. He had a myriad of sordid prison riff-raff at this command, giving the Merry Men and me more than enough to keep watch over.

My thoughts were interrupted when someone insistently tapped on my shoulder.

"Hey—you're Joe, right?"

Turning, I found a wiry, older man in his seventies, with graying hair and multiple wrinkles looking up at me as if I were a giant. At five foot four inches, I had to crook my neck downward to look into his face. He gazed at me expectantly through black horn-rimmed glasses; barely managing to stay perched on his birdlike nose.

"Who wants to know?"

"Thaddeus Peabody, at your service," he replied eagerly, grabbing my right hand and pumping it up and down enthusiastically.

"What do you want, Thaddeus?" I asked warily.

"Oh, you can call me Tad. Everyone calls me Tad." He looked back behind him suspiciously as though being watched and changed his tone to an almost inaudible whisper. "I don't like Thad. It's too close to thug. You know, I'm _not_ really—a thug, I mean."

"Uh—what are you in for?" I asked, although I already knew. Like the rest of the prisoner's, I'd read his file.

"You mean what I'm in for, but am _not_ guilty of!" He replied, sounding like squawking chicken.

_What the hell did he want? _"What were you arrested for?" I clarified impatiently.

"Grand theft and—uh—accessory to murder."

"Those are big crimes."

"Yeah, I know, but I didn't do it, I tell you—NOT even a little bit! Do you have any idea what it's like to be put away for years for crimes you didn't even commit? No one will listen! The DNA evidence is too strong." He put his hand to his lips, giggling like a school girl. "Of course you know—you're in here under false pretenses too."

My nerves went rigid. _Did I know what it was like?_ He had to be kidding. _Was this a joke?_ _Had the Merry Men put him up to it?_ If he told anyone I was only posing as crooked cop—

I stared at him more closely. He had a crazy, glazed look in his eyes and a nervous, speedy speech that indicated he was a bit of a loony tune. Taking a deep breath, I wondered why the guy was singling me out? _What did he think a crooked cop could do for him?_

"What in the name of God makes you think I'd want to do anything for you?"

"Duh! Who else? You're a cop, right?"

"I'm a _former_ cop. I'm in here for embezzling funds and divulging confidential information. Do I look like I give a shit what you need?"

Looking over my shoulder, he whispered, "I don't believe you're guilty for a minute!"

Shit! Just what I needed—some crazy, male version of Grandma Bella about to blow my cover!

Taking the little man by his elbow, I pulled him to the side of the brick wall. "What the fuck are you getting at?"

He cringed. "Nothing! I didn't mean nothing by it."

I felt like a jackass, but knew I had to maintain my cover. He was obviously not as crazy as he looked. He stared around me, as though seeing something there, and I resisted the urge to look myself over.

"I see auras around people, and I sense you're a good man. Most auras in this place are _pretty _ugly. There are some men who are NOT supposed to be here, besides me. Your aura and those of the big guys always around you are pretty clean. I think you're all here under false pretenses."

"I have no idea what you see, buddy, but trust me—I'm not a good guy and those Neanderthals have been beating on me since I got here. They're the worst degenerates ever."

"Fine. You're not innocent, but I am. I haven't ever done a thing wrong in my whole life—not even a traffic ticket. I tell you, I'm cleaner than my mother's floors! God rest her soul."

Some part of me felt for the old guy. _But why?_ For some reason my cop instincts told me he was telling me the truth, which was just what I needed—some impossible task of trying to prove his innocence. _Didn't I already have enough on my agenda?_

I shook my head. "Okay, Tad, tell me. Who did commit those crimes, if you didn't?"

"Oh that's easy. My twin brother, Leviticus Peabody!"

"Well, hell—why didn't I think of that?" I slapped my forehead, mocking him. "You have an evil twin that perpetrated the crimes, and you took the wrap for him."

"I swear!" He yanked a photograph, from his jacket pocket and shoved it in my face. It was black and white, but there was no mistaking the truth. Two identical twin boys. Shit!

"Okay, so you have a twin brother," I relented.

"I knew you'd believe me!"

I gave him a speculative look. "Why would your brother allow you to pay for crimes you didn't commit? Is he really that much of a heartless bastard?"

"Yep, he is heartless. He's also body-less."

"Excuse me?"

"He died two months ago."

"Oh. Uh—Sorry."

"Thanks. I never saw him again. Never got to say goodbye." His wizened eyes got watery.

"And he never confessed he was the culprit?" I asked, wondering once again if _any_ of this was even true.

"Nope. He couldn't very well do that since a train mowed him down in Poughkeepsie. I'm pretty sure there wasn't any talking after that happened." His eyes implored me to listen, and the hump on his aging back sharpened. "I loved my brother, but he was what you'd call the 'black sheep' in the family."

Crap—I had two black sheep in _my_ family. _Wouldn't you know we'd have something in common?_

"How did you get arrested, and he get off scot free? Didn't you tell your attorney he was the one the police should pursue?"

"He ran the moment I got arrested. We never found him until he was flat as a pancake. I guess they matched his dental records and a fingerprint or two—if he had any left after the train got him."

Our time in the yard was over.

"I'll see you, Joe. I just _know _you're going to help me," he whispered.

I wanted to shout back that I wasn't there to save him. But a part of me knew I'd do whatever I could for the little odd man. The last thing I needed was one innocent person being stuck in that hellhole on my conscience. If he was telling me the truth, I had to get him out of there.

Steph's POV

Writhing on the floor of the bathroom, I grimaced at the sharp and stabbing pains that had gripped me for over an hour. They'd started as dull and achy earlier in the afternoon and had progressively worsened throughout the evening.

Someone pounded hard on the apartment door. "Stephanie open up! Answer me!"

It was Hal, bringing Bob back after having taken him up for a long run in the park.

I tried to yell back, but just then the cramping grew even more severe, and my voice choked with the gravity of it.

It didn't help I'd left the TV on in the living room.

Getting up wasn't an option. If I did, the pains might worsen further. God, I'd never been so scared in my life!

The insistent pounding on the door got louder, and Ranger's bellowing voice added to the mix.

"Stephanie, if you don't open the goddamned door now, we're breaking it down!"

"No! Don't—there's a key in the—"

Too late.

The sound of splintering wood was deafening, followed by urgent footsteps hitting the tile floor. Bob beat them both, running to my side and whining softly before lying on the floor with his head on my knee.

"I'm in the bathroom" I screamed out, relieved they were there. Both men came screeching to a stop in the doorway.

"What the hell are you doing on the floor? Did you fall?" Ranger asked, entering quickly and reaching out to help me up. Bob instantly stood at attention, blocking access to me.

I jerked back. "No, I can't move. Get away from me!" If I was indeed pregnant, I could be losing the baby—Joe's baby. I had to do everything in my power to stop it from happening.

Forcing the panic in my throat back, I said, "I'm sorry. I know you want to help me, but you can't. I—I need—a woman."

"Ella has the evening off. She went to visit her sister. I'll call her back," Ranger offered.

"No!" I shook my head tearfully, denying his solution. "I need M-Meg. Please get her."

My eyes met Ranger's.

"Hurry."


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

No Profit. Not my characters.

Carol, thanks for your awesomeness! Your sense of what works and doesn't is amazing to me. You take everything you do, to a higher level, including my writing.

Kim, you rock! I am in awe of your wonderful talents and instincts. I value your advice more than I can say.

You're both such great friends, thanks for all the laughter and always being there when I need you!

Thanks everyone who is reading and still with me, you're the best!

Meg's POV

"Okay, Meg—how hard can frosting a cake be?"

As I swept the frosting knife along the side of the cake, I answered my own question.

"Oh I don't know, Meg. How crazy are you to continually think Bob is still here and that you actually have someone to talk to?"

_Maybe you should get your own dog. Then you won't have to go back to having conversations with yourself. _

"Oh shut up!"

_Jeez! You're not even being nice to YOU—let alone Stephanie!_

"I baked the cake, didn't I? I've got this. I'm woman—hear me roar!"

The self-recriminating laughter echoed in my head.

"It's official. I am nuts! Give me a break, would you? I'm here cooped up, unable to even walk down the damned street. I'm living with the love of my life at long last, while his sort-of-ex resides three floors below us! Yes, I did a really stupid thing thinking she'd get my voice mail and not show up to dinner three days ago. There's way too much lingering tension. I've caught Ranger glaring at me repeatedly during meals, expecting me to apologize to Stephanie."

My damn conscience wouldn't put a sock in it.

_Are you really so full of pride you can't just say you're sorry?_

"I'm making her a cake, okay? Joe told me she _loves_ cake." I shouted at the air. "I don't know what the hell else to do!"

_You should have never done it in the first place._

"I know. I know! It was rude and insensitive. I really thought she'd get my message."

_You knew there was a chance she might not. Why didn't you just go down there and talk to her? _

"Because I let jealousy rule my head, and it shut down my heart. I'm human! He spent so much money on her. Why would he do that if he weren't head over heels in love with her? Truthfully, I'm angry over how she hurt him. And just how ridiculous is that? I wouldn't even be here if she'd loved him!"

_He loves you!_

"He says that, and it feels like that when we're making love, but he cares for her too."

_She's in love with Joe!_

"But that doesn't stop Carlos from being there for _her_. He still loves her! I'm going to have to learn to accept it and support him, because I know it won't ever change."

_Well at least you got that much right!_

_"_I'm going to finish this cake, take it to her and make amends as best I can. Then I'll offer to help her do her investigative work again. There's nothing else I can do!"

I heard the apartment door crash open. Carlos rushed into the kitchen. Stopping for a moment with a puzzled look, he searched for my invisible companion.

_Oh great! Now he'll think I'm nuts too. _

His eyes were filled with anxiety. "Who the hell are you talking to?"

"Uh, no one. I just—what are you doing here? I thought you had a Rangeman meeting."

"I did—Stephanie needs you now! Come on!" He ordered, while grabbing my hand still holding the frosting knife. I yanked back and splattered a blob of frosting on his pristine, black shirt.

_Whoops. _

"For what? I'm frosting a cake for her. Can't it wait?" I couldn't imagine what she would want with me.

He grabbed the knife from my hand, throwing it down to the counter.

"What the hell's wrong?"

He tugged on my arm again. "She's on the floor of the bathroom downstairs in terrible pain. She's asking for you."

"Me?" I repeated incredulously. "She needs a doctor. I'm not a trained, medical professional."

"Meg, are you going to _help_ her or _not_?" His voice was deadly steel.

"I don't know what I can do, but of course I'll come."

"Thank you. She asked me to hurry."

"I'm sorry I—I have to get shoes on!" Untying the apron protecting my clothing, I tossed it over a chair.

"Forget the shoes—she needs you now!"

Clasping his hand in mine, we rushed down to Stephanie's apartment without speaking another word. In the bathroom, my hardened, stubborn heart, felt an immediate twinge, as I took in her stark white face and the beads of perspiration gathering on her forehead.

"Stephanie, what's wrong?" I asked, kneeling down on the floor.

She looked beyond my shoulder at Carlos, still standing in the doorway and then turned her gaze on me pleadingly. Instinctively, I realized this was between us women and not for his ears. Jerking my head toward the door, I indicated he should leave.

"I need to know if she wants me to find her a doctor," he said stubbornly, folding his arms as if he had no intention of moving a muscle.

"I—I—don't know," Stephanie whispered. Her voice was choked with panic.

"Tell me what the hell is going on this minute, Stephanie!" he ordered, glaring at her for her apparently new lack of trust in him.

"I'd—rather talk to—Meg," she panted, which served to upset Carlos more.

"Why? There's _nothing_ you can't tell me. You should know that by now," he argued.

"I do—I—it's just—_please, _Ranger."

Her eyes begged me to make him see reason.

"Just let us have a minute please, Carlos," I shot out brusquely. Their intimate conversation about being able to share anything had made my throat constrict with jealousy.

He let out a frustrated breath, finally giving in—something he rarely knew how to do.

"I'll be nearby."

I exhaled upon his exit, turning back to the woman who was for all intents and purposes a stranger to me.

"Stephanie, tell me. What is it? Do you already know and didn't want Carlos to hear?"

She was breathing in and out with the pain.

"Cramping."

Her eyes stared toward her abdomen, as if willing the pain to stop."

"Is it your period?"

"I don't know—it could be—" Her voice broke. "I hope not—"

"Why not? Is it the wrong time of month?" I asked, tiring of the twenty questions game.

"No. It's the right time."

"Okay. Well, then why are you on the floor? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I can't get up!"

"Are you in that much pain?"

"No. I mean it's— yes. I don't—know! I've never had cramps this bad before."

"You haven't? I really think we should—" _Oh_—was it possible she might be too embarrassed to ask? "Did you call me because you need supplies?"

"No—uh yes—I don't—have—I might not—" she floundered. "I don't know what the hell I need!"

I tried to hide the aggravation I felt. "Stephanie, you have to spell this out for me. Am I missing something here?"

"Yes, you are. I'm too—I don't know—what this is!"

"You said it was your time of month?"

"Yes, but—it's—past due."

My mouth fell open as understanding dawned.

"_Oh my God_, Stephanie—are you pregnant?"

Suddenly all of our differences melted into the background, for in that moment, I _knew _the fear she was having. I found myself teleported back in time, as if I were the one experiencing it all over again.

"I—hope so—but I don't know. I'm clueless when it comes to this stuff!"

"When did the cramping start? Are you bleeding?"

"No—just pain—sharp—sometimes—gotten worse. I feel—stupid—it would be—" she continued to speak in fits and starts. "Meg, I _can't_ lose this baby—if I am." Her eyes reflected the sorrow she'd have if that came to pass.

I knew that sorrow all too well.

"I understand. We won't let that happen. You're late?"

"Ye—ss"

"How late?"

"Eight days."

"You could be pregnant, but you might not be too. Sometimes stress causes—"

She started to cry. Any jealousy I'd ever had toward her regarding Carlos seemed petty and ridiculous now.

My eyes held her haunted, tear-filled ones, as I took her hand in mine. "It's going to be all right."

"I'm—scared. It really hurts."

"I know. I was too."

"How could you possibly know? You _had_ a baby—I mean—" She looked at me, horrified by her callous remark. "I'm sorry! I know he didn't make it—so sorry—I meant you _don't_ know what a miscarriage is like."

"Oh, but I do."

_Great! Hardly anyone knew. Now of all the people in the world I was confiding in her. _

"What does that—mean?" she gasped. As another jolt hit, she squeezed my hand tighter.

"I lost my baby boy—yes, but even before that I had a miscarriage." I cast my eyes away from hers. Confessing something so heartbreakingly private made me very uncomfortable.

"While you were married?"

"No, before—when I was engaged to a man I met in law school. It happened after my fiancé died."

Stephanie and I had at least one thing in common, because the last thing I wanted from her was pity.

"I'm sorry—I had no idea."

"No one does. I never told anyone but my immediate family."

"You _do_ know then! Meg—please—if I'm pregnant, I can't lose it. How did it feel when you miscarried?" Her eyes pleaded for clarification. She was so filled with dread and confusion I could hardly refuse her request.

The details came begrudgingly. "I wasn't very far along. It happened a week after Mike died."

"Did it feel like this?" she asked, choking back fearful tears. "It hurts like hell!"

"I had intense pain and bleeding. It came out of nowhere. One minute I'd felt fine—the next—it just happened." I took a deep breath before continuing. "I found out I was pregnant and lost the baby at the same time."

"That must have been horrible! I _can't _lose this baby. It's my only chance—if something happens to Joe." Her voice became stronger and more determined as she said his name.

"Oh, I see."

"You think I'm crazy to want to be pregnant, don't you. Joe nearly said no." She looked upset that I might be casting judgment over her.

"Stephanie, I totally get why you want Joe's baby now. I don't blame you one bit." _No one_ understood that kind of longing more than me.

She nodded, looking as though she wished she had someone to hug her. I knew she'd never welcome one from me.

"I wish my mom was here. She'd know what was happening—or Mary Lou—" She closed her eyes momentarily, as if hoping they'd magically appear and take my place. She wasn't the only one.

"I get that you miss them. Just breathe, and don't stress. That'll make the pain worse. I know it's not easy, but you have to try to relax."

"I'm trying!" she retorted.

"I know—I'm not criticizing you. I want to help. Do you trust that?"

"Y—e—s," she answered hesitantly.

"Let me have Carlos find you a doctor. That way we'll know what we're dealing with here." My eyes tried to console her, as I whispered softly, "I'll be right back."

"You'll stay with me—while the doctor is here?" she asked, anxiously. While still herky-jerky at times, her voice was getting slightly  
stronger the longer I was there.

"Yes, of course." _How could I say no?_

"Thanks." She averted her eyes. It hadn't been an easy request to make.

I quickly sought out Carlos. Hearing the bathroom door opening, he turned and looked at me questioningly.

"Carlos, we need that doctor. Do you know anyone you can call?"

"I do."

"Hurry then."

"What the hell is wrong? Tell me _now,_ Meg," he said, already pushing buttons on his phone.

"She's either experiencing excessive PMS symptoms, or it's possible she's having a miscarriage."

"Shit! Are you kidding me?" Loving concern reflected clearly in his eyes, sending another painful arrow through my heart. _Somehow I had to get past his lingering affection for her!_

"Does it look like I am?"

Steph's POV

_Oh my God!_ I'd never experienced anything like this in my life. _Why did it hurt so damn much?_ At least there wasn't bleeding. Maybe pain was a normal symptom of pregnancy. I wished I'd paid more attention when Val had Lisa, although, I couldn't recall Val ever saying anything about the pain until she was actually in labor.

I hadn't been eating much and felt so damned guilty. Perhaps this was my fault! I'd tried to eat, but my stomach was a continuous combination of knots and acid. Now I knew what Joe had gone through all the years he'd been so concerned for my safety.

_What if I was pregnant and lost the baby?_ One thing was for certain. Joe would be nothing but understanding. He'd say it wasn't the right timing, and we'd have other chances. He'd wipe away my tears—hell, he'd take the pain from me if he could!

He'd always been willing to do anything for me.

It terrified me I might not be able to give him a child. I'd wanted to all these many months since he walked out of my apartment after confessing he'd always hoped to marry and have a family with me. The thought of him leaving this earth without one moment of his dream being realized caused me such intense regret and remorse I could hardly catch my breath.

Again I wished my mother or Mary Lou were with me. I'd just talked to them and Lula that morning. Ranger and I had decided I needed to keep in touch, in order to not arouse worry or suspicion. I'd told them that after the trip to visit my college friend, I'd been recruited to work for Rangeman in Miami for a few weeks. Their reactions had been a combination of concern that I use plenty of sunscreen, meddlesome curiosity and pure green envy. If only they knew the truth. I hated lying to them!

Vinnie had been informed I was taking a long leave of absence. He'd screeched out his usual barrage of screaming threats, until Ranger had given him more reason to fret by promising to quit permanently if Vinnie kept up his griping. That shut him up!

I was trying to distract myself from the fear and pain nearly consuming me. In spite of my efforts, it gnawed at me.

Upon Meg's return, I looked at her with eyes that saw a woman genuinely concerned for my well-being. It hadn't been easy to ask her to come to my aid. But I suspected it wasn't a piece of cake for her to go through this with me after her own experiences. What a strange twist of Fate was being played out between us!

"Doctor—coming?" I asked, doubling over once more, as another pain coursed through me.

"Yes, soon. Let me get you a pillow. Maybe if you could lie down—"

"I don't need you to Mother me! I just need to—"

"I know you're scared."

"I'm not afraid of much," I retorted belligerently.

Her green eyes sparked in frustration. "I'm _trying_ to help you."

I'd insulted her.

"I just need you to be here. You don't have to say or do anything! I just don't want to be alone."

"Would you rather have Ranger?" she offered begrudgingly.

"No!" I snapped. "_He's_ the reason I might never give Joe a child."

"You're _blaming_ him for this?"

"No! I blame myself. This will be my fault! Don't you see? If I'd just allowed myself to realize what Joe meant to me from the beginning, _none _of this would be happening."

I couldn't believe I was spilling my guilty guts out to Meg of all people.

She breathed out deeply, mentally putting her arsenal away now that she understood I wasn't attacking her beloved man.

"You shouldn't be putting yourself under more stress. We need to get your mind off of everything for the moment."

"How in the heck can I do that?" I groused. _She was really a piece of work!_

"Let's try doing an exercise I learned in FBI training to manage pain. Are you willing?"

I nodded. _Anything was better than idle chitchat with her._

Meg gave the instructions softly. "Close your eyes first and take some deep breaths in and out with each pain. Try to focus on something that makes you relax. A calm place you love—the ocean or the woods filled with beautiful tress. Someplace where you can go to help your body become free of pain or tension."

_Joe_

He was the only thing that came to mind. I saw him in every stage of our lives from childhood to when he came back into my life four years ago. My perfect, peaceful place was with him, and it broke my heart he was so damned far away. If anything would save me from losing our baby, it was Joe. In my mind, his arms were wrapped around me, and his deep, masculine voice whispered lovingly into my ear. When the pain hit, I could almost feel his lips on my cheek and his hand holding mine.

I held onto that until the doctor arrived.

Joe's POV

Something was wrong. I'd felt it all afternoon and into the evening. It wasn't danger exactly, that much I knew. I'd always sensed when Stephanie needed me—even before receiving any form of emergency call. We'd had that uniquely strong connection for what felt like forever.

Only this time I couldn't be there.

Even though I couldn't afford to allow myself any distractions, I'd been sending her mental messages all day. My stomach ached with worry. What the hell was wrong? She was safe at Rangeman, right? She'd promised me she would be cooperative and stay put. I assured myself with the knowledge that if something had happened there Tank would've been informed, and I'd know.

I had to focus on prison life; our success there depended on it. Blutto's eyes had been on me non-stop the last two days, continuously sizing me up. Our initial contact had only been the beginning. And yet I had no idea what he was plotting next.

If that weren't enough, Tad Peabody seemed to be everywhere I looked, and it was just my luck he'd gotten the seat right next to me at dinner that night.

"Hey there, Joe" he greeted in that frantic tone of voice he always used.

"Hey—how's it going?"

"Good." He leaned in closer and whispered. "I know you're being watched."

"Yeah, by you—_all _the time," I snapped back, hoping the other guys were too busy shoveling in their food to hear what he'd said.

My eyebrow arched in warning. _Be careful!_

"Well—uh—" He eyed the other guys at our table. "I have information."

"Uh-huh. I'm sure you do."

"I do!" he pouted, glaring at me defiantly.

"Not now," I ordered through gritted teeth.

"When?"

"The yard—tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay. Any progress being made regarding my request?" he persisted.

I wanted to shout, but whispered harshly instead, "Tomorrow!"

_Shit, the guy was going to blow everything!_

After dinner, I made my way back to my cell; grateful I could focus again on Stephanie. Picturing her, I tried my best to pick up what was going on with her. The only thing I knew for certain was that she was in some kind of pain. Whether it was emotional or physical wasn't clear to me. Sending her comforting and loving thoughts, I hoped I was dead wrong.

_Maybe I just missed her too much._

Steph's POV

The doctor completed her examination and sat on the edge of the bed. I was grateful it was a woman physician. She reminded me a little of my mom, which brought me comfort. Her eyes were deep grey and full of compassion. Before she even told me, I knew Joe's and my dream had possibly been forever shattered.

She patted my shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sorry–-I know you were hoping for different results, but you're not pregnant."

"I'm not? Then why all the pain?" My throat closed from holding back the tears her news had instantly invoked. _She had to be wrong!_

"No. Mr. Manoso said you've been under a great deal of stress, and I believe that's the cause of your late menstrual cycle. However, there's no reason you and Mr. Manoso can't continue to try."

I wanted to laugh my head off. And then I wanted to cry my eyes out!

Nice advice. Wrong man!

Meg let out a choked cough, folding her arms across her chest.

Ironically, a half-hour after the doctor left, I got my monthly visitor. _Did the universe have it out for me— or what? _

Meg provided me with the supplies I needed. Afterward, Ranger stayed in the apartment and demanded to see me once he knew I was going to be okay.

Pacing back and forth in front of the bed, he eyed me from time to time. Ranger didn't know what to do if he couldn't throw money at something to fix it, so unlike Joe, who would've known exactly what to say and do.

"You're okay. Do you need anything? You can tell or ask me for whatever you need—whenever you need it. Don't you ever forget that!" he ordered me in his usual blunt, commanding way.

Good thing I knew him so well. It was his way of showing he cared.

His way.

I wanted _Joe's way_ so badly. My eyes burned with unshed tears. A good cry was the only thing that would make me feel better.

I wished they would both go and leave me too it!

Meg and Ranger stood by the door, speaking in soft, indiscernible tones, followed by a glare from her every now and then. Finally giving in to their quiet argument, he left—but only after giving her a quick peck on the lips and sending me one final, sympathetic gaze.

_Go with him!_

It dawned on me they'd argued about who was going to keep me company for a while longer. _The question was had Meg won or lost the argument?_

She sat in a chair by my bedside. "I'm sorry, Stephanie, I know you were hoping—"

"It's fine!" I shot back hastily, but then the tears started.

It was anything but fine.

"Sorry, I really think I'd like to be alone."

"I understand, but Ranger thinks you shouldn't be left alone. He's more worried about you than ever. I'll only stay for little while. As soon as you fall asleep, I'll go."

"Look, Meg—I appreciate that you were there for me. It made it easier, but I'm a big girl and—oh my God!"

The sudden realization stabbed my heart.

"What?" she asked worriedly.

My eyes filled with aching resignation.

"I have to tell Joe. How am I going to tell him 'no' after I got his hopes up? I can't have Ranger do it. Can you imagine him hearing it from another guy—_especially_ Ranger?"

I knew immediately what had to be done.

"Meg, you have to go there as his wife to tell him."

Her eyes widened. "_Me?_ I hardly think I'm the one you want—"

"Who else? There _is_ no one else. No one knows Joe and I are even together—except Eddie, and he can't go there! It has to come from you."

"I understand there aren't many people who are in on this, but surely there has to be another way," she stammered awkwardly.

"No! You _are_ the way."

I couldn't believe I was asking her for more favors, but all I cared about was Joe being given the news as gently as possible. On some level, Meg understood what having a baby meant to us, and I didn't want the devastating result blurted out to him harshly or insensitively.

"Please, Meg."

Her eyes softened. "Are you sure?"

"I am. Please—for Joe."

"Okay, I'll go if you really want me to do this," she relented. "If you're _sure_ this is the best way?"

"He thinks of you as a friend," I admitted.

She'd been there for me. I couldn't deny that confiding her personal pain had actually helped calm and comfort me. And now she was agreeing to go to Joe and break very difficult news to him. Maybe he'd been right. Maybe I _was_ holding onto a needless grudge.

"I really appreciate your willingness to do this for us."

She nodded understandingly, and then her lips turned up slightly.

"I have a better idea, Stephanie," she said, her eyes glowing.

"What?"

"You're the _only_ one he'll want to hear this from. Stephanie, you _have _to be the one."

"How am I supposed to do that?"

"You write a letter, and I'll take it as if it's from me. Joe will know the minute he sees your handwriting who it's really from, and then he can write back to you. You two can exchange letters as much as you want from now on!"

"We could?" My eyes shone at the possibility of having actual contact with Joe.

"Yes! Why the hell didn't we think of this before?"

Hope began to lift my sorrow a little. "You'll go tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow afternoon," she confirmed. "That way you'll have plenty of time to write the letter. If there's a way, I'll bring you something back from him. I promise."

"A letter from Joe?" My heart soared. It seemed too good to be true.

"Yes—it's the perfect way for the two of you to keep in touch."

"Meg, thank you. You don't know how much—" My voice broke at the thought of receiving real honest to God communication from Joe.

Meg's genuine sincerity of wanting to help us connect was clearly evident. God, having anyone in our corner right then meant a lot. My heart softened toward her. A single tear fell down my cheek, and I swiped at it quickly.

"It's okay, Stephanie. You can cry in front of me. I don't blame you one bit."

Tears cascaded down my cheeks. "I just hate disappointing him again!"

"You really wanted this for him, didn't you—even more than yourself."

"Yes. I wanted him to have a _really_ great reason to come home."

"He already has that," she assured me. "He has you."

Meg's POV

The next day, after arguing with Carlos about going out in public sooner than planned, I finally convinced him I was going to be heading back to Joe's house anyway. What was a day or two early to make my first appearance at the prison?

Heading for NJSP with Stephanie's letter to Joe in my purse, I hoped that even though her news would be disheartening, the direct communication would at least provide some measure of solace.

I was quickly cleared through security upon arrival. No question was made as to my letter. No one even opened and scanned its contents. Instead, a call was made regarding my presence. Within seconds a prison guard appeared.

Weird.

I was then led down a narrow hallway, which led to a flight of stairs. My 'suspicion antenna' rose fast. This was not normally how prison visitation was set up. Usually, it was just beyond the door of security to ensure no extra mingling with the other prisoners. From my experience, it had never been set in a basement. Men chattered away on the other side of the wall, while the steamy, sweaty smell of laundry and fabric softener permeated the hall air.

A burley guard unlocked a door and motioned for me to enter a room. I took one look and turned around to question him.

"What the hell? This isn't the visiting section! Where have you brought me? What's going on?" I asked, demanding answers.

"Shut the hell up before I make you, bitch!" His voice was menacing and gruff, and fear gripped my stomach. I usually didn't rattle, but after my experience at Stephanie's apartment, I still spooked a little too easily. Reminding myself I was a professional and needed to keep my wits about me, I surveyed my surroundings and went into my discriminatingly sharp FBI mode.

It was NOT a normal visitor's room. It was set up with a double bed and dresser. A CD player was on the desk to the left, with an eclectic choice of oldies from the 70's and 80's—all slow, romantic music. The purpose of the room was becoming all too clear. _Oh my God!_ It was obviously intended for conjugal visits.

_What the hell?_

The key turned, and I was locked inside. There were no windows and no way to escape the solid, grey concrete walls. I'd told them at the front desk I was there to see Joseph Morelli—my husband. At least Carlos knew I'd come here. He'd be expecting me back. _Was I being held captive?_

_What possible reason could there be for this kind of treatment?_

Joe's POV

Getting ready to head out for our daily outdoor, excursion time, I had to admit I was mildly curious about what information Tad Peabody might have for me. Knowing him, it could be something totally useless, but I lived for glimmers of hope these days.

I'd just found a place at the back of the line, when one of the crooked guards I'd encountered previously with Blutto grabbed my arm and steered me wordlessly away. Once out of earshot from the others, he grunted out his explanation.

"You got a visitor."

"I do? Who?"

"You'll see."

I figured it was Blutto's way of cornering me into another clandestine meeting, but this time I was pointed toward an unfamiliar passageway that led down a flight of stairs. Unlocking the door, the guard smirked at me, and my mouth fell open in total shock.

There stood my "wife", looking equally as shell-shocked.

"Okay, you two. It's fucking time. I'll unlock the door in an hour. Make it good and loud." His obnoxious grin widened, as he grabbed a chair and planted it by the door before threatening, "I'll be listening."

With my back to the guard, I gave Kate an 'are-you-shitting-me' look and then pasted a phony, lecherous grin on my own face.

"Baby! Wow, what a great surprise. Come over here!" I forced out in my most ready-to-ravish voice.

Grabbing her around the waist, I planted the now familiar but fake kisses to her chin. I turned her away from the vulgar guard, still leering at us from the open doorway.

"Honey, I've missed you so!" she murmured. Our faces parted, as we momentarily recovered from our mutual shock.

I turned to the eavesdropping interloper. "How is this possible? There aren't any conjugal visits allowed at this prison. I checked."

"I wouldn't be asking questions if I was you. You're being given special sex privileges. It's whom you know within these walls that counts, and you know someone pretty high up. Take and enjoy her with his compliments. By the way, that's an order."

He slammed the door shut, locking it on us.

"Holy shit!" I mouthed silently.

"What the hell?" she mimed silently back.

I eyed the door, half expecting it to be wrenched open by Blutto and his lowlife cronies with their buggy eyes all sickly dilated, ready to watch the action.

I shook my head. _Shit!_ Just what I needed—a Bulgarian Godfather who'd decided to be benevolent and allow me a hot, sexual encounter with my counterfeit wife. _Was the place bugged?_ Probably not—I doubted he'd have the clout or a place to monitor us. Somehow though he'd managed to get access to this room and obviously used it at will for rewarding those whom he deemed worthy. Or perhaps this had to do with his intimidation tactics.

_How the hell could Blutto have this kind of influence?_

Regardless, we had a guard outside, and even if the place wasn't equipped with surveillance devices, we had to play along. I wanted to kill that bloated, egomaniac again and again.

Kate looked around the germ-infested cesspool.

"I don't know what _you're _expecting or how you arranged this, but I'm _not_ having sex with you on _that_ bed."

She was playing high-maintenance wife now, and her eyebrows did a questioning jig.

_How the hell were we supposed to pull this off?_

"Who needs a bed, baby?" I asked, knowing we had to succeed somehow in convincing them we were having sex.

Warning her with my eyes to go with it, I advanced on her. We knew the drill. It wasn't our first play-it by-ear moment. Working as we both did undercover, improvising wasn't new to either of us.

"I missed you, sweetie-pie."

We simulated kissing noises.

"Jesus! I thought I was going to go without connubial sex for years!" Nuzzling my head next to her ear, I whispered, "We've got to take this all the way Kate. They can't suspect a thing."

I pulled her head to my neck, while I admonishing her loudly, "I should be mad at you for leaving me the way you did. What kind of fucking vow-keeping do you call that—dumping me for your family?"

"I know," she came back contritely. "Joe honey-God I'm sorry I left you, but I got so scared when you were arrested. And Daddy was so worried about me. He wanted me home."

She was pouring it on thick with syrup. "Forgive me sweetie—all I want is you. Do you want me too, Joe? Oh—oh—God—you do. You're not mad at me, are you baby? Mmmmm Ohhhhhh—this is what I've missed. How are we supposed to be apart forever? I want you so much."

I instructed her partly by pantomime that we needed to discard some clothing in case the pervert outside decided to try to steal a lecherous look at us.

Unbuttoning my shirt, I tossed it on the bed. I then assisted her with her jacket and threw it on top of my shirt. Next our shoes went flying along with her skirt. I motioned with my finger to follow me to the farthest corner of the room—as far away from the damned, no doubt grossly overused, bed as possible.

"How about some music, hot stuff. You know how wild and crazy I get with the right tunes."

I did as she asked. Putting in some CD's, I hoped they would drown out the whispers sandwiched in between our loud and passionately faked cries of sexual fulfillment.

"OH, Joe—you're hard for me, baby. I'm ready. Let's get this on!" She shimmed over to me and undid her blouse before tossing it on the floor near the bed.

She was down to her slip and underwear now, and I felt my eyes burn with guilt. Steph would murder me for this—never mind Blutto and his wrath.

"Katie, you're so beautiful. We're still fucking newlyweds, and I'm hot to screw you, baby! You're so damned perfect! That body of yours sets me on fire! Oh man—" I groaned out, as if being so turned on after her long absence was painful.

_ It was MORE than painful. It felt like we'd just scored starring roles in a bad porn movie. _

"I have a letter from Steph for you," Kate whispered in my ear.

"You do? Is she okay?"

"Baby! God, oh I'm with you. I'm right there with—Ahhhhh!" she screamed, and then murmured back, "She's fine. We figured out the two of you could exchange letters, pretending she's me."

I ran my hand against the metal chair to make a screeching sound like the bed frame was whining under our gyrating bodies.

"OH, man, you drive me mad, Katie. Shit, baby—you've been gone way too longgg!"

We both made hard, fast kissing noises, panting like we were mad animals going at it and completely out of breath. I hit the wall behind me hard with my hand to sound as though we were crashing against it.

"You sure she's okay? I've been worried sick about her," I uttered into Kate's hair.

"It was a rough day for her yesterday—but she's doing fine. The last thing she wants is for you to worry."

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh—that's it! Oh, honey, you know how to do things to me—Yes! YES!"

"Easier said than done. Worrying is like breathing for me when it comes to her."

I went back to playacting, hoping no one I knew would ever find out about this!

"I want you so much baby!"

I pushed her against the wall, covering my body over hers, so that nothing could easily be discerned if our personal Peeping Tom came barging in.

We gyrated against the air trying to make it look as real as possible. This was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever done—and probably ever would do. Suddenly, we both started to laugh uncontrollably.

"Oh, lover boy, you're tickling me," she said, giggling helplessly.

"I'm going to drive you insane, baby. You'll be begging for mercy soon."

Neither of us could stop chuckling silently under our breaths. It was surreal. "I'm wild about your angel thighs. You know how soft you are there. It drives me mad. I want to stay here forever—an hour's not long enough!"

_It felt like a freaking eternity!_

"If Carlos finds out about this, he'll want to kill you," she whispered back, blushing furiously.

"Why? I had nothing to do with it!"

Suddenly my mind put two and two together, and my mouth dropped open. "Oh my God! The two of you together—?"

_Shit! Was she crazy to tangle herself up with the likes of him again? _

"Yeah."

"And Steph is there while you two—?"

I started to laugh irrepressibly but silently out of nervous tension. Steph probably _would_ want to kill me twice. I had NO idea Ranger and Meg had gotten together that way. _The poor thing!_

"OH, baby—YES! OH YES! Giddy up cowboy!" She slapped at the wall. "Ride me baby!"

I gave her a quizzical look. "Cowboy? Is this something you and Ranger do for fun?" I put up a hand quickly to stop her, as she opened her mouth to answer. "On second thought, I don't want to know!"

"Come on, Joey. Don't be shy—my bucking, Italian Stallion!" she cried out.

"Hate when people call me that!" I grunted through gritted teeth. "Isn't that Sylvester Stallone's nickname?" Aloud, I growled, "God! Woman you're nothing but an animal!"

"Me? You're a fucking sex God!" she said, huffing with laughter under her breath.

I shook my head vigorously, trying to hold back even more hilarity. _Would either of us ever forget this most bizarre, wacko moment in our lives? _

"What—goddess—am I—to you?" she asked, breathing brokenly, as if she was in the throes of passion and could barely utter the words.

"Uh—do I look like a history buff?" I shrugged.

"Play along," she hissed.

"Cleopatra!" I yelled suddenly, figuring any one of them would do.

"That's Egypt—not Greece!" Kate mumbled, catapulting into hysterical laughter again.

"Well, right now you're reminding me of the hyena's in _Hercules_," I whispered back, remember the damned movie I'd had to watch over and over with my niece.

"Hyena's are the _Lion King_!" Kate shot back snarkily, shaking her head and looking toward the heavens. "I know—believe me. I watch those movies with my nieces and nephews all the time!"

"Who the hell was in _Hercules_ then?" I snorted back before roaring, "Fire baby—I'm smoking hot for you!" My voice was getting hoarse from the back and forth. "Wasn't it gargoyles?"

"No that was the one with Notre Dame in it," she muttered back.

"What?"

She mimicked the one-eyed, hump-backed-creature to clue me in.

"Oh yeah, baby—you're so GOOD. You know exactly what I want! Give it to me faster!"

Kate was doing some weird, gyration-dancing thing that I'd personally never seen before and suddenly my heart went out to Ranger. I could only imagine his reaction to her behavior. It was enough to set me off on another jag of laughter.

"Oh my God—you're driving me crazy woman!" I shook my head, scrunching my brows. "You turn me on. I've never seen moves like that!"

_I was telling the truth. I really hadn't and hoped to God I never would again. _

"OH Shit, that was good. Do it to me again, lover. We have so much lost time to make up for!"

I groaned inwardly. _How the hell did actors keep a straight face?_

"As many times as we can, Joey. I'm afraid they'll come and tear you away from me—oh yeah—oh more there—no less there—not so hard—over to the left. Yes, yes—oh keep going. Don't stop! Never stop! Aahhhhhhhhhhh mmmmmmm ohhhhhhhhhhh!"

"Isn't that enough? How many times and ways would they expect in an hour?" I asked her in a hushed tone.

My eyes were practically bugging out from this whole thing. I'd had enough and could tell Meg was bored out of her mind.

"I need a break, baby. I'm damned good, but I'm not a racehorse!" I confessed.

Truthfully, I was running out of passionate garbage to spout.

She went over to her purse, as if preparing to freshen-up her lipstick. Concealing the letter, she passed it to me surreptitiously, and I quickly pocketed it.

"You need to read it now. I have paper and a pen," she said, in stealth mode. "You're going to want to write back."

"Something's happened." I could tell by the warning look in her eyes.

"Sort of."

Removing the letter, I quickly read through it.

"Oh shit!"

My stomach twisted into a pretzel thinking of Steph, knowing my instincts about her had been dead on as usual.

"When did this happen?"

"Yesterday. I'm sorry Joe. I know you both wanted—"

"Is she okay? She's got to be so disappointed."

Sadness clawed at my throat, but I couldn't give into any weakness of any kind. Honestly, a part of me was relieved, because I truly hadn't wanted to miss one minute of her carrying our child. I'd given in to her, but knowing now for certain she wasn't going to be left alone to raise our child made me realize how much I'd actually been dreading it could happen.

"Yes, she is. But she's tough—like you've told me. She'll be fine."

"What about the two of you? Are you pulling one another's hair out—yet?"

Meg's POV

"It's been awkward—but—I think we've turned a corner. I was with her through most of what happened yesterday, and I hope we've reached a new understanding."

"I'm glad you were there, Kate. She needed a friend. This has to be so shitty for her. She really wanted that baby."

"I know. I never told you something, Joe. You'd already heard enough of my woes. In fact, no one, except my family, ever knew I lost a baby—Mike's baby—a week after he drowned. I understood what Stephanie might be going through. I'm glad it wasn't a miscarriage. It would've been worse if it had been."

"I hate it when she cries. Did she cry a lot?" he asked anxiously.

"No. Not in front of me. I'm not exactly someone she feels comfortable with."

"She's stubborn, but she's worth getting to know—trust me. _God!_ I wish I could've been there with her." He was clearly struggling over not having been there when she'd needed him the most.

"She was very brave. You'd have been proud of her."

"I am—always."

"Stephanie wanted to make sure you knew as soon as possible. She was concerned about how you would take this. She felt she was disappointing you."

"I'm fine. I'm more worried about her. Is she really okay?"

"She will be once she gets a letter back from you."

I handed him the paper and a pen I'd brought, along with an envelope

"I'll keep an eye and ear out for the door. Sit and write as fast as you can. We only have a few minutes left," I whispered.

He wrote quickly, and then folded the letter before enclosing it into the envelope. Handing it to me, he smiled gratefully. "I wish I could hold her."

"I'd offer to give her a hug for you, but she'd probably look at me like I had two heads."

He laughed. "You're getting to know her pretty well."

Concealing the letter in my purse, I dressed quickly, knowing the hour from hell was just about up. The door would soon be unlocked. Shaking my head like crazy to muss my hair, I motioned for Joe to rifle through his as well. Soon he looked as though he'd just awakened. I left a couple of buttons on my blouse open to distract the guard from any kind of suspicion.

Joe's POV

We quickly embraced, so it would appear we'd hardly come up for air the entire hour.

"Times up—sounded like some good fucking went on. The Man is expecting a full report." He turned his attention on Kate. "I wish I had time to find out if you are as good as you sound."

"Back off, you bastard! That's my wife you're talking to!" I barked at him, while pushing Kat, behind me protectively.

"What makes you think you'd keep me from her if I wanted her?" the ugly-ass jerk threatened me back.

"My fists make me think that! You get her back up to the entrance, and make damned sure you keep your grimy paws to yourself. It's like you said. I have contacts high up, and you don't want to cross me!"

"Okay, relax! The boss already gave his instructions not to harm her—this time."

"I'll miss you, Joe," Kate whined longingly.

"I'll miss you too, Katie bear. Come here for one more kiss, baby doll."

We did as expected, making a huge spectacle of showing PDA to the guard. If Blutto wanted a full report; he'd get one. Kate playfully slapped my butt as she walked out the door.

I'd get her for that, though I was feeling really grateful. I had a letter from Stephanie, and she'd soon have one from me.

God, that was an hour I didn't know if I'd ever be able to purge from my mind. It'd almost felt like Blutto's eyes had been staring at us the whole time. But even he didn't have enough clout to have installed cameras in that room. The best he could have done was audio surveillance. If that was what he'd been after, we'd given him more than enough of an ear feast.

Back in my cell, I lay on my bunk and pulled out Stephanie's letter. Seeing her slanted, scrolling handwriting made me feel closer to her. I reread it, looking for hidden messages or some indication that she was really okay.

_Dear Joe, _

_I miss you more than written word can convey. It's fine here. I'm doing better than I thought I would. I'm working on that big filing project to keep myself busy, and so far it's taken a lot of time without generating many results. But I'll never give up. _

_Morelli, I'm avoiding the real reason for this letter._

_ Our other endeavor is a no-go. I'm so sorry. I wanted to be successful in that joint commitment of ours, more than you know. Please forgive me. I don't know how to make this up to you. You have to come home soon, so I can. I want you to have every dream you've ever imagined. Seeing you have them will be the happiest moments of my life too._

_Bob misses you. He's always waiting for you to walk through the door, just like me. He sleeps on your side every night._

_I've realized no amount of cake or sweets will ever fill the void in my heart without you. Eddie has brought over all the deliveries you arranged. Somehow, someone here must have taken over the sticky note project, because I've found two in the last three weeks. Maybe it's Ella. She's in and out of everywhere like a ghost. _

_I can't tell you how much those notes mean to me. I'm feeling a little lost without you. I hope you are well and that things are going okay. I love our nine-o'clock exchanges. It almost feels as though I'm with you in that hour. _

_Writing to you and touching base with you this way will be so wonderful. You were right about that notorious friend of yours being nicer than I gave credit. I'm not saying we're pals, but I at least see where you were coming from. _

_Maybe I'm grown up now. I hope so. You deserve to come home to the best woman in the world. I want to be her more than anything on this earth. _

_Take care. I know you're only a thought away, and you're always in my thoughts. _

_Love you,_

_Kate. _

The letter brought a huge smile to my face. Seeing her handwriting and holding something she had touched felt so damned good.

I'd read between the lines, all right. I knew her so well. She was hiding her deep regret and sorrow. We weren't going to be parents anytime soon.

I allowed myself to feel the disappointment for a moment. A part of me had been hoping for that baby. No matter how hard I'd denied it to Kate, I felt sad. I wished so much to hold Stephanie and tell her it was going to be okay. For now I could only hope my letter would comfort her the way hers had for me.

Meg's POV

Stephanie opened the door to her room as if she'd been anxiously awaiting my arrival. Her smile was tentative. Worry was clearly evident.

"Hi!"

"Hi. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Did you see him?" she asked hurriedly.

I knew she was craving any bit of news about him.

"Yes." If she knew what I'd been up to with Joe, she'd more than likely slam the door in my face—even if it hadn't been for real.

"Is he okay?"

"He looked great. He's doing good."

"What happened? Did he read the letter?"

"Yes. Here's his to you." I handed her the envelope, and she placed it close to her heart.

"Thank you, Meg! You have no idea what this means to me!"

"I know. He felt the same way when he got yours, Stephanie."

I wanted to be truthful with her, but I knew there was no way to tell her what had transpired without worrying the shit out of her. I had to tell Carlos the truth, because what happened was related to Blutto, and in direct correlation to the fact Joe was obviously being courted to do something in return for that madman.

I'd ask Carlos' opinion about cluing in Stephanie though. Joe had promised she'd be left out of nothing, although if I were she, I'm not sure I'd want to know.

"I'll leave you to your letter. He said to tell you he loves and misses you, although he wanted to hold you and tell you that himself."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. I'll see you in a while for dinner upstairs."

I turned to leave.

"Meg—"

"Yes?" I said, turning back toward her.

"Ella brought me that cake you made. Thank you. It was delicious."

I cracked a surprised smile. "It was meant as a peace offering for my rudeness the other day. I _am_ sorry about that." _There—had that been so hard?_

"It wasn't necessary. I understood your reasons."

"Well, I could have been more forthcoming with you. Besides, it gave me something to do," I admitted, knowing she'd understand.

"Well, it was really good. I love cake."

"Good. Joe told me once that you did. I'm kind of rusty at baking, so I'm glad it turned out okay."

"Rusty? I'm not even that! I don't bake at all. I have too much respect for sugar to desecrate it!" she joked.

We shared a smile. I left her to read her letter from Joe, realizing to my surprise, I was kind of starting to like Stephanie Plum.

Steph's POV

Perhaps Meg wasn't the monster I'd created her to be in my mind after all.

She'd been there for me, almost as a true friend would've been, and I couldn't deny the fact that she'd helped me through a really sad experience—not that I was over it by a long shot. Between this and knowing it'd been her idea to give Joe and me that time at the safe house, I could hardly stay in hate mode toward her any longer. Instead, I was heading toward a reluctant liking—or at least a grudging acceptance—of her.

Not wanting to dwell on the notion too much, I couldn't wait to get to Joe's letter. My hands shook as I opened the envelope, knowing he'd held both the envelope and the paper.

I immediately recognized Joe's masculine scrawl and smiled.

_Dear Kate, _

_Don't worry—I'm doing fine. _

_I miss you too. More than I knew was possible. _

_Don't you dare blame yourself for anything! It's okay. If it were meant to be, it would've happened just as we discussed. As soon as I come home, we'll have to do our best to get things where we both want them. I wish I was there to hold you. I know you're sad but try not to be. It'll all work out for the best—you'll see. Trust me. I love you. _

_ You've always been the perfect woman for me. My life would mean nothing without you. _

_The item I miss most in here is strangely not cannoli, as I suspected it would be. But boy do I have a craving for a cupcake. I've never needed anything more. Now I know you said cake could not fill the void in your heart, but strangely I feel just the opposite. A cupcake could totally satisfy me—forever. Funny, maybe you're craving Cannoli now? Chocolate chip was always my favorite. I'm sure you remember that. Best day of my life. And every one since then, spent with you, has been another best day. _

_I miss Bob too. Give him a pat on his mangy head and tell him to stop slobbering on the sheets. _

_Loving you, the way I do gets me through every single day. _

_Always,_

_Joe_

Tears threatened to fall, but I found the strength to smile instead. _God, I loved that man!_ We'd be together and have that baby someday. I had to believe it with my whole heart and soul, because Joe believed it. He'd never lie to me.

Joe's POV

Blutto summoned me the very next day, once again forcing me to miss my sunshine time.

I made my way to the same room where our first meeting had taken place. Soon I heard his labored, heaving breathing, as his legs scuffled down the hall. He entered the room, soundly locking the door behind him. He plopped into a chair, staring at me for a full minute before uttering a word.

Morelli, how you like sex I gave with hot wife."

"How do you think? It was fucking unforgettable." _That much was true!_

"So I heard. Giddy up!" he joked, laughing and hacking disgustingly at the same time.

The bastard had either listened in or had made sure to receive a full report.

"Vhat? You not thank me?"

"Of course. Thank you. It was an unexpected surprise. How did you pull it off?" I asked, hoping he'd be egotistical enough to want to satisfy my curiosity.

"How I do what I do—_my _business," he told me in no uncertain terms. His eyes narrowed, and his lips pursed into a bitter scowl.

"Sure, I get that! But man, you really have some clout around here."

I acted as though I respected his power. _Fat chance—I couldn't wait to destroy him!_

"Yes, that true. Don't cross me. Blutto's choice to give or take away."

"I see."

"Now you give back."

"What?" I pretended to be shocked. "You mean the fringe benefits aren't free? I didn't ask for your help. I owe you nothing!" I announced, showing my cockiness once again.

He hit his palm hard on the table. "Your wife hot number—wise you be careful. What shame you lose sexy red-headed beauty."

My back stiffened and my jaw hardened. "Is that a threat?"

A snake like, double-fanged smile returned to his face. "Told you Morelli—I _do_—no threats." he informed me menacingly. Snapping his chubby fingers, he added, "Wife could disappear—poof!"

I squirmed in my chair, just like he wanted me too.

"You leave her out of this! Name your damned price."

"You vill do for me."

"I will do what for you?"

"You vill perform services required."

"That depends, on what you're asking."

"Actually, Butto giving you vhat you said you vanted," he sniggered wickedly.

"What I wanted?"

"Yes, you said you vanted to kill. I vill grant wish."

"I never said that."

"Didn't you?" His depraved smirk was diabolical.

He pulled out a small tape recorder and hit play.

I listened to my own voice recorded during our last encounter, determined not to reveal how horrified I felt inside.

He shut off the taped incrimination.

"I have proof. You not lie to Blutto!"

"I didn't mean it. People say things like that all the time."

"Silence! You will do what I command!"

"You're demanding _way_ too much. I'm not a murderer!"

"You've killed—that I know!"

"Yes, in the line of duty, when I was forced to—but not in cold blood. I'm not a killer. I'll do anything else, just not that."

"You too lily-livered to do job?"

"Of course not! But I'm in prison—behind bars. How could I even I do what you're asking?" I questioned, trying to calm the fires blazing in my stomach.

"I have ways, Morelli. You see what Blutto can do. I have power!" he cackled, like a devil whom had captured his last, lost soul.

"I was angry at the time sure! But I don't give a shit anymore. I have no desire to see anyone die."

"You do vhat Blutto say, or someone else dies!" he growled, his eyes boring a hole into my forehead.

"You can't be serious. If I get caught, I'll never get out of this hellhole! I'm not going to sacrifice the rest of my life to do what you're asking!" I had to make him see this was all about me saving my own skin.

"You vill do as I command!" he shouted monstrously. "You vill kill Stephanie Plum, or your wife vill die."


	39. Chapter 39

No Profit. Not my characters.

I know it has been a long time coming and I do feel bad about that. I did the one shot though, so you have to forgive me. Right? Truthfully, it just didn't come together in my head until now. Thanks for being patient. I hope it's worth the wait.

Carol and Kimmy, thanks for steering me in the right and perfect directions, as always! I don't even want to think of where this might have gone without you two and your amazing instincts!

Carol, you are the most incredible editor ever! You take my words and bring them to a place they'd never go without you! Both of you are so dear to me! Thanks from deep within my heart!

Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing and for your continuous, and loving support, you're the best!

Chapter 39

Joe's POV

"You want me to kill Stephanie Plum or my wife dies?" I questioned, stalling for time and twisting my friggin' wedding band to make him believe I was nervous. I was too. The stakes had just been raised more than I could ever have imagined.

_Shit! _

_How did we go from me making him into a premier crime lord to me killing the one person I loved most in the world? Did he know? How could he?_ _And what the heck happened to him having plans of his own for Stephanie? _

"So how the hell am I supposed to get out of here to do it?" I asked bemusedly.

_Who else had to be on Blutto's payroll to get a convicted prisoner out of jail, commit a crime and then returned before morning as if it were part of the everyday, normal prison routine. _

_Fuck! Was it? _

Blutto's colossal head and baggy, multiple chins shook in twisted amusement.

"I got you but good, Morelli."

Loud, spitting guffaws accompanied tears running down his pox-marked cheeks. He hit his knee as though I was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. Then suddenly all the frivolity ended on a dime.

The guy was one straight jacket short of a fully padded cell.

"You not pay attention. Blutto told you plan with Stephanie Plum. Vhy would Blutto vant her dead? How could I fuck her then?" His round, stubby finger pointed at me. "You disappoint, Morelli. Lackeys working for Blutto must be on toes. Know truth from lies. I tell something—you remember!" He pointed to his head like it was the paragon of pachyderm intelligence.

"Is this a joke to you? I take my work seriously! I'm NO lackey! You better not be fucking with me, Blutto."

"Or what? You should learn keep mouth shut, Morelli! What Blutto does to Stephanie Plum—Blutto's business. If I require you to kill her, you vill do it. If I say jump, you vill _leap_ for Blutto. Remember wife. If you cross Blutto, she goes! Snap! Her pretty neck broken—no more redhead!"

He bristled in his seat. "You are insolent, cocky fool. I'd have to be magician to get you outside valls. I have shitload of tricks—sure—sure—" His spiked tongue came out to wet his lips. "Getting you out may or may not be one. How you say in 'Merica? For me, I know. Vhen I vant—you vill find out."

"Stop with your empty threats! I've had it!" I leaned toward him, a menacing warning in my eyes.

_What the hell was he up to? Was this a joke or did he truly intend to follow it through? If he thought this would make me grovel for information, he was sadly mistaken!_

"What the hell is it you want from me, Blutto? I don't have time for your insanity."

"SILENCE!"

I could almost see smoke rising from his enormous balding head. Beads of perspiration rippled down his face, and I saw clearly he'd hated being pegged as crazy.

Good.

There was plenty more where that had come from. I knew exactly what buttons to push, and it was time to jam the elevator!

The rolls of fat around his torso jiggled as his back straightened. His nose sniffed the air. "I smell sound of defiance —yet again."

He whacked his cane hard on a metal chair, but I refused to let him see me jump.

"You will be sorry calling Blutto crazy. Like fox I am. You _crazy _one, thinking you have choice in matter. You're mine, Morelli. What I say goes. Termination is specialty. It gives Blutto pleasure see you go vith slow, pain-filled torture and long, excruciating death."

"You're nothing but an over-bloated slug," I told him, eyes daring him to contradict me. It was time to make him begin to lose control. His ego was the key.

"You have vish see hell, Morelli?"

"No," I scoffed, "I just don't care for blatant insanity. I respect a man who knows his mind. I am questioning if you even have one!"

He made a move as if about to eject out of his chair at me.

"You don't scare me," I jeered.

"You arrogant bastard!" he growled, nearly choking.

"Yeah, I am and rightfully so. _You._ Need. Me. You _know _I have connections. You're a power-hungry dictator without a country to rule! All you have is a few men within these bars. I hold the key to lay a crime syndicate at your feet."

I pointed my finger at him as though he needed to learn who was really the boss. "You might be creating havoc all over Trenton—maybe even the whole State of New Jersey, but you are _nothing_ more a flick of lint on the big tapestry that encompasses every metropolis in North America."

Sitting back in my chair, I allowed my words to sink in, yet questioning whether he had the brain capacity to absorb it.

"You think you have answers, Morelli? You know nothing!"

"I know _way _more than you think I do."

I paused, making him wait for more.

"I've been busting Mafia members and drug cartel with the FBI for years. My intelligence connections are vast, and I know how to infiltrate those families so you could take over ALL of it! Crooked cop was small potatoes compared to what I can do."

I smirked as if he was the worthless piece of crap he was, then laughing derisively, I continued, "_I_ don't _need_ you. You'd be working for me when all is said and done. I'm _Italian American. _They'd accept me much easier than they ever would you. You stick out like a big blob of blubber. Me? I look the part."

The cockiness oozed from me. "Put me in a pinstriped suit and no one would question it for a moment."

Blutto was huffing deep, angry breaths throughout my little Morelli lesson.

"Hell, you can't even go back to Bulgaria," I pushed. "You're a man without power in your _own _country. Pitiful—a joke—a mad lunatic out of control!"

He howled angrily, the sound echoing in the small confines of the room. Grinning, I brought home my disgust.

"You're a loser, Blutto, and without me—you got nothing."

"I _can _get you out from here! You vill kill Stevhanie Plum! I have MORE power than you ever vill have, Morelli. YOU vill do my bidding if you want to live to see tomorrow, you foolish braggart. I vill step on you and make you grind into dirt! You have no idea vhat I am capable doing!"

"And you have NO idea what I can do!" I countered back heatedly.

_Shit!_ My hope had been he'd forget that damned plan of his and be more interested in using me to get him into a seat of supremacy. _What the hell was his fixation with Steph?_

"Tell me why you want to kill, Stephanie, rather than bed her all of a sudden."

"I _hate_ her! I vill make her pay. I want her to grovel under Blutto—YES!—but I vant her dead MORE!"

My stomach lurched. Mission accomplished. His true intentions had finally been revealed.

"Why? What'd did she do to you? She's just a woman—and not much of one when you get to know her," I mocked. "How could someone that insignificant have such power to make you so angry?"

"She is vy I here!"

"No, you're here because you were arrested for your crimes—just like me."

"_She was there_—they rescued _her_. They never find me if not for her."

"You overestimate her, as I did. She's nothing!" I made a zero with my fingers. "The FBI and TPD had you in their sights long ago. _Your _men took the wrong person. That's why she was there. She had NOTHING to do with the arrest."

"Why you protecting her?" he questioned, eyelids lowering into discerning slits.

"I'm _not._ I could care less what you do to the bitch! But if you ask me, it's a waste of time."

I got up from my chair and walked to the other side of the table. Shaking my head disapprovingly, I continued, "You're allowing yourself to be distracted. There is a much bigger picture here, and you're all twisted around because of a woman. You're weak and predictable. It is precisely why you will fail without me."

"Son of Bitch!" he croaked in fury.

"Looking right at one!" I shot back.

"Ve are getting nowhere," he grunted.

I folded my arms over my chest. "Exactly."

"I should kill you now."

"You can't! And it's driving you mad!"

"Don't flatter yourself. I vill use you and spit you out! I get from you vhat I want. Then we see vhat happens after we get ball rolling," he sneered angrily. "I vant Stevhanie Plum gone. Final. You will do, Morelli."

"If I do anything for you, then I get what I want too, and you better not be crossing me," I threatened.

My mind raced with thoughts of how in the hell we'd pull off a phony murder of Stephanie. The ramifications of that fake act would be far-reaching once it became public knowledge, hurting everyone who loved her. No one could know who had "done it", and it would have to be played out like a well-oiled machine. _If we tipped off her family, could they pull it off? Would that even be an option? Worse yet—how in God's name could I be anywhere near her and not be able to touch her and tell her much I loved and missed her?_

Blutto had hit my Achilles heel without even knowing it.

"What _you_ vant." He shook his head disgustedly, revealing the insanity in his eyes. "You are idiot."

"I want my wife under your protection. And trust me, Blutto, if anything happens to her, I vill hold you responsible and you vill pay!" I imitated his ridiculous accent to further show him he'd met his match ego wise.

"Oh ho! You don't scare me, Morelli. Imitate me again, and you vill die. Screw what you can do! I. Don't. Need. You!" His eyes blackened to evil incarnate. "How do I know you trustworthy?"

"You don't."

I was telling him the truth. The moment he trusted me would be the moment of his downfall.

He about split a gasket, laughing at me as though I were the most insane person on the planet. Without a doubt, that honor belonged to him.

"Guh! You are idiot! Watch out, Morelli! I vill poison you like snake! Blutto's more powerful than _any _magician. You vill find out. When time ripe. You go now. Plotting must be done."

"I should be in on any plans you make!"

"You go! I vill let you know vhat you need to know vhen."

Somehow the guards knew our meeting was over and appeared out of nowhere. Blutto must have some kind of remote pager concealed and available to get their attention at all times.

I was escorted back to the prison yard to finish the time in the balmy May air. _God, when was this hellish nightmare ever going to end?_

Blutto hated Stephanie and wanted her dead. My gut squished with pure acid as I thought of what this might mean in terms of pulling off the sting of the century. _WAS there a way to get me out of that place to do her harm?_ _How?_ He had so many damned people intimidated and shaking in their boots, I wondered if there'd be any prison staff left when the rampant crime spree was finally exposed and extinguished.

I'd outsmart this imbecile with my last breath if need be. Whatever was coming, my instincts told me it would be happening soon. The obsessive ego of Blutto would want his orders carried out expediently and obediently.

Well, he'd met his match, and I had backup—lots of it! We'd make it look good, and he'd never know how duped he'd been. I had a feeling however that the only way this could end well was with that maniac's ultimate death.

I needed to meet with Tank and get information to Ranger. Stephanie and I would have to put on the performance of a lifetime, knowing it was a given I'd not be alone when I was freed to do Blutto's dirty work.

We had the advantage though—Steph and I. We knew one another inside out. It would take very little—perhaps not more than a look or a slight nod of the head—and we'd know what needed to be said and done. She was the perfect partner for me. I was so grateful to have a woman of steel who'd never bow to fear or intimidation. If anyone could pull this off, it would be us.

Smiling at the thought of her plucky tenacity that had both befuddled and bedazzled me for years, I ached for the day we'd be together again, so our lives could truly begin.

I felt a familiar annoyance tugging on my shirt. Tad Peabody, aka pest at my side, was there—again.

"What?" I asked a little grumpier than usual. My mind had been totally pre-occupied with thoughts of my future with Steph.

"I've been very patient, but I know things you need to know."

I rolled my eyes. "What things?"

"He's planning a conjugal visit for you and your lovely wife." He practically rubbed his hands together in glee.

"Duh—tell me something I don't know."

"Ohhhhhh." He snapped his fingers in deduction. "That's where you went the other day. I wish you'd have let me talk to you. I wanted to help you—I know things!" he insisted again.

"What things?"

"I didn't think that guy had a heart—"

"He doesn't!" I snapped. "And you should stay the HELL away from him. Nothing that puss-filled loser does is for anyone but himself."

He nodded, self-satisfied. "I thought so."

"Yeah, so thanks for wanting to help, but it would be better if you just kept out—"

"Have you noticed that guard—the one named Bart?" He spit a little with excitement. "He used to have blonde hair. Did you see? It's about the same shade as yours now?"

"What?"

"Look—but don't turn all the way around. He's over there."

He started to point a spiny finger, and I pushed his hand down, giving him the best imitation of Bella's eye I could muster.

"Don't point, for God's sake!" I hissed.

I motioned with my hand to change positions with me, so I could get a look.

_I'll be damned! How in the hell had I missed it?_

He didn't even look like the same guy unless you knew. I'd thought he was new on the job.

Tad smiled like a cat that'd swallowed a cage of happily tweeting canneries.

"See, he has your coloring, and he's wearing brown contacts. Or it's his real eye color, and he used to wear blue contacts," he half grumbled/half rambled. "But that doesn't make any sense. Even with his hair curlier than yours, you two could be brothers. And I ought to know a twin when I see one!" he informed me, his hands flying.

I made a motion with my neck for him to rest his hands. The last thing I needed was an excitable, over- zealous, amateur spy.

_Holy shit!_

I couldn't deny it. He was right.

Did Blutto's plan include replacing me in my cell when he got me out to do the evil he'd concocted? This guy and I had similar body builds, and he was only two inches shorter than me. It couldn't be just a coincidence.

"You're pretty lucky to have me, aren't you, Joe? I mean I'm so small that people don't even notice me. I can sneak in and listen to them, and they just about step on me. I'm like a little ant underfoot."

"You got that right," I agreed. My gruffness toward him faded a bit. "How long ago did that guard dye his hair?"

"It was dishwater blonde two days ago. He wasn't here yesterday. He looks at you all the time. At first I thought he had a thing for you, kind of like Hector, but now I wonder." Tad stroked his chin. "What do _you_ think is going on?"

"It doesn't matter. Forget you saw anything!" I hissed.

The last thing I wanted was to put the diminutive guy in danger. He might have a chunk of freedom and living still ahead, and I didn't want to take that possibility away from him by having Blutto string him up for spying.

He _was_ small and pretty much blended into the cement work—undetectable until he made himself a total nuisance. _Could I take advantage of that?_ No. I really couldn't risk it.

It was if he'd read my mind.

"Let me help you, Joe. I'm good at being invisible. All my life, no one's _ever_ noticed me—not even my parents all that much. My brother found a great use for me to be his little scapegoat, but mostly I've been pretty insignificant my whole life. I'd like to do this whether you get me out of here or not!"

"Why?" I asked curiously.

_Man, this character was full of surprises. I felt badly his family hadn't been very supportive. _

_No—stop right now! _

This would never work and could totally backfire. I didn't have the time or the patience to deal with anything else. My plate was already piled a mile high!

"You're one of the good guys, Joe. You're going to change everything—for a lot of people," he whispered. "If I'd had a son—I would've wanted him to be just like you."

Oh Jeez, I could NOT afford to let this bit of a man get to me. I also couldn't discard the perfect way to spy on Blutto and beat him at his own games.

"I'll think about it. Do _nothing_ until I say so. Do you understand?"

"Yes, son," he teased, eyes crinkling happily.

"Tad, I am NOT saying yes."

"But you didn't say no either!" he reminded me jovially.

I resisted the urge to take it back. I didn't want to take all the wind out of his tiny chest.

"We'll be a great team—you, me and the giant three," he whispered. His grey eyes shone as if I'd given him the key to the gates of heaven.

_What had I gotten myself into? And what in the hell could possibly happen next? _

Meg's POV

I stood there, arms folded across my chest, while Ranger fought for breath, laughing hysterically! _What the hell did he find so funny about Joe and I having to pant and scream like porn stars for an hour of humiliating torture!_

"It's NOT funny!"

I wanted to stamp my foot like a rebellious five-year-old. _What was it about that man that made me lose my maturity, my confidence and my temper in a blink of an eye?_

"Oh, but it is! I would've paid to see it! And the fact that Blutto had Morelli over a barrel without even knowing it is priceless. You have to tell Stephanie!" he added, smirking with pleasure.

"No way! She'll be unbelievably pissed and want to slit my throat—again."

"No, she won't! If I'm okay with it, why wouldn't she be—unless?" His eyes turned to black coal. "You didn't really kiss Morelli or touch him or anything like that, did you?"

"So NOW you think about getting jealous!" I taunted, wanting to punish him a bit for his lack of protective concern earlier. Refusing to let the instant flame in his eyes stop me, I baited, "What if we did? You know it was all an act—harmless fun even."

His hands were on both my shoulders in a minuscule second ready to shake me silly.

"Don't play with me, Meg. Did you—or not?"

"Not!" I snarled. "And it wasn't a bit comical."

Okay maybe it had been. Morelli and I had certainly laughed our heads off, but I wasn't about to admit that to Carlos.

"Maybe not to you and Morelli, but—" He started chuckling again. "Steph needs to hear this directly from you. She may not be as amused by it as I was, seeing as you did threaten her security with Morelli. But she knows the score, and she'll be fine when she realizes it was all an act."

"It was—pretty much," I mused quietly. "Although I did use that 'ride 'em cowboy' thing you love so much."

Confession was good for the soul after all, and if the truth twisted Carlos' brain a bit, so much the better. Sometimes the idiot had it coming!

He spun on his black boots, glaring at me. "You didn't. That's private between us!"

"Well, Joe did wonder—" I dangled and then hastily added, "but don't worry. Afterward, he decided he'd rather not know."

"What in the HELL am I going to do with you, woman!" he shouted. His face was turning new shades of red I hadn't seen before. There was so much still to learn about him.

"That will teach you to laugh!" I pointed at him, my eyes sparkling temptingly.

"You want to teach me something?" he countered; his espresso eyes began to fill with smoldering promise.

"Yeah, I do. I want to teach you to ride bareback."

Groaning in capitulation, his lips swooped over mine and for quite some time we enjoyed his riding lesson.

Steph's POV

The last few days had been rough and shitty, including mourning the loss of a child that never was and might never be—at least, not now. Knowing Joe needed me more than ever, I managed to pull myself up and out of the funk. I needed him back with me so we could further our familial endeavors.

Pouring over and over the information was beginning to feel hopeless. I'd almost given up a few times, but something in the back of my mind continued to prickle. And I'd never been able to let an overwhelming nagging feeling go when it was that damned strong.

Grabbing my coffee, I set about untangling everything in my head, and an hour later I hit pay dirt. The file I'd settled on was like opening a bit of treasure. Now I just had to find the main linking lines, and I'd be in business!

I'd probably seen it fifty times and had passed over it. _How had I missed this connection that suddenly had become all too obvious?_ Remembering a prisoner in Joe's cellblock got me to thinking I'd heard that name and seen that face before. _Holy crap!_ If what my mind was piecing together were true—there would be some political fallout hitting one of Trenton's supposedly finest soon. I needed verification.

Quickly.

I didn't stop to think. I had to know now!

"Vincent Plums Bonding—you get in trouble, we supply funds on the double!"Connie rattled her newest weekly greeting. The familiar, bubble gum smacking Minnie Mouse sounds were music to my ears. I'd really missed her and Lula.

"Connie, how are you? It's Steph."

"Oh my God I thought you fell off the face of the earth, girl! Where the hell are you? You can't still be in Miami. Wait till I tell Vinnie you're home. He'll be so happy. Of course, he'll swear and pretend you're a fungus or wart on his foot. But doll, let me tell you, what he's been like without you! I think he's about ready to call in his wife's family connections to the mob and have Lula eliminated!"

"Connie! You can't tell Vinnie I'm back—or even that you've heard from me! I'm NOT back!"

_Oh man, maybe this had been a mistake. Ranger might want to kill me if he finds out I talked to Connie without clearing it first. _No, I had to make it look good. If they never heard a thing from me, that would be weird and suspicious. We'd agreed on that, and I'd remind him of it incessantly if he gave me any grief.

"Don't tell me the family traitor with the corkscrew loose brain is on the phone!" Vinnie's whiney voice rang out, and I nearly hung up.

"Connie, have my back on this!" I whispered.

She played along like she'd always done to keep me protected from Vile Vinnie.

"No, Lula, I'm sure you can't take the day off! Even if you had a hot date and he's still there, you gotta come in!"

I could almost picture Vinnie's exploding temper tantrum and I smiled. It was only a little sad to think I'd never be going back to the bonds business. Working with Joe, if I proved myself the way I needed to, was far more appealing. Picturing his gorgeous ass sitting just mere feet from me all day and night was like a lifelong dream realized. _Now if I could only follow through on this potential breakthrough!_

"He's gone," Connie whispered.

"Okay good. I need you to find out in your own clever way if my mother or my grandmother—or anyone else you can think of—remembers Commissioner Brooks' wife's maiden name, and if anyone in their family within in the last couple of years got into any legal trouble—the kind that would land them in jail."

"If they did, they weren't bonded with us. I'd remember."

"Then I really need you to check into it for me. Can you call True Blue Bonds and ask Sebring too."

"Sebring I can do, but, Steph, why can't you just call your mom yourself and ask?" she inquired, popping a bubble in my ear.

"Uh, they're kind of upset I've been away so long. They think I'm trying to avoid them—and—well—I am!" I stuttered being as elusive as possible.

"This is for a case in Miami with Ranger? I thought you let him go. Word had it you finally gave his trespassing papers back and told him to take a hike."

"Yeah, well—we are done—never were together—not really."

The fact there'd ever been anything at all between Ranger and me felt totally insane now that I truly knew and loved what I had with Joe.

Connie snorted.

"Strictly business," I stressed, keeping my answers vague and holding my patience.

_Whose business was it anyway?_

Yeah right—other than the entire Burg!

I couldn't wait for the day when Joe got out of that hellhole and back into my life. I'd gladly shout it from the top of the tallest building in Trenton that Joe Morelli was MINE, and there was NO more need for speculation regarding the whereabouts of my heart. It was completely and forever his!

"Okay," Connie complied dubiously. "I guess I can understand your reluctance to endure a Helen Plum interrogation. You know my dad's brother has considered recruiting your mother at times to make the uncooperative minions he likes to torture spit out their darkest secrets!"

"I'm sure." I shook my head, picturing my mother like some German Gestapo soldier threatening someone with the ironing board if they didn't squawk like a strangled chicken.

"Thanks."

I hung up and thought back to any conversations within my family regarding Commissioner Brook's life, wife and family. _Damn!_ I needed to pay MORE attention to the gossip at the dinner table and do less shoveling of food!

Okay, one thing niggling at my mind down and one more to go.

For weeks I'd been trying to find some clue as to how the prisoners were relaying information to the outside world. Yes, some of it was by burner phones, and I didn't have any kind of lead as to how those were being smuggled into the jail yet, but there had to be more than one way. With the epidemic proportion of criminal activity going on, there had to be other avenues of covert communications.

I pulled out the copy of the NJSP family guide for prisoner's rules, visiting hours, self-help programs and anything else you might want to know about a loved one's daily routine behind bars. Who knew what you could find on the Internet? Thank God, Joe wasn't really a prisoner. It was sad to think of the family members who had to study up on all the rules and regulations put upon loved ones. Even if the said loved ones had it coming, the innocent relatives had to be devastated to see it happen.

I'd been over it twice before, but there had to be something I'd missed the first two times. Reading about the classes they could take, the working situations and jobs they were expected hold while serving out their sentences, it was chock full of everything you'd never want to know but had to just to be granted visiting privileges.

Being so cut off from someone you loved more than life was heart breaking. Those loved ones must cherish their phone calls and letters. While I wasn't lucky enough to get to hear Joe's voice, I'd loved the letter Meg had brought me from him and had read it so much I'd worn out the edges and some of the ink right off the page.

Letters.

I knew you could write back and forth, but I hadn't really paid a great deal of attention to the rules on mail. Skimming through the booklet now, I found what I was looking for.

_Oh my God! Why hadn't I thought of this before? Why hadn't it registered?_

_Is Inmate Mail Subject to Inspection?_

_Yes. All incoming inmate mail, including registered, certified or special delivery non-legal correspondence is opened and inspected for contraband. Incoming legal mail from approved legal correspondents (i.e. lawyers legal assistance to prisoners, state and federal court officials) is opened in the presence of the inmate to insure that contraband is not being introduced into the correctional facility. At __**no time**__ is legal correspondence from an approved legal correspondent __**read**__ by the staff. _

The words **no time and** **read **stood out suddenly, and I realized even though mail is inspected for contraband, it's _never_ read. That meant any information from legal sources could be encrypted or coded in some way to tip off a prisoner as to where or what might be going down in regards to the criminal instigations being run from inside and outside of prison. If they could use an old language like Aztec as I'd seen on a television news report, they would STOP at nothing. It could be a numeric code as well. My gut told me I was on to something—big!

There was the possibility that even lawyers were being bribed or blackmailed under the duress and threat of their families' continued safety. They could easily be manipulated into cooperating and disseminating information.

What if someone working for a lawyer—a secretary or paralegal—could encode information as they were typing it? Lawyers were not about to waste precious billable hours reading every word they'd just dictated. They'd take the pen and sign the form or whatever. They might not even know. Of course, with lawyers that might be wishful thinking too, seeing as I'd been married to one once. I knew firsthand how low they could go. Some might even been in it for a cut of the profits.

I felt like dancing on the walls I was so happy. Two huge breaks in one day!

I needed to look back through all the files of the most notorious prisoners in Joe's cellblock and see which held the common thread of legal counsel. God, what if this _and _the other information I was waiting for from Connie came together? It wasn't an answer to everything, but it was a start! I could almost see a desk at Joe's precinct with my name on it—Stephanie Morelli: Crime Consultant. Now_ that_ had a perfectly melodious ring to it.

There was a knock on the door of my apartment.

It had to be one of the guys—or Meg. Funny, I didn't actually hate that it might be her. _Who knew that would happen?_

Opening the door, I found Meg and her new lapdog Ranger. I wanted to laugh when I saw how she had him wrapped around her pinky. I felt nothing against them as a couple—except maybe a little old-fashioned monster green envy. They made me miss Joe.

Ranger was different. Only those of us around him on a regular basis would notice. His eyes were softer, his face younger. He didn't have that horrible hardness to his jaw, and he smiled a lot more frequently than I'd ever remembered before. She was good for him. More than that, he was good for her too.

"What's up?" I asked, barely able to contain the excitement I'd felt over my discoveries.

"Well—uh—there's something I didn't tell you—about the visit I had at the prison with Joe," Meg stumbled.

She drew her fingers through her hair nervously, and Ranger's mouth lifted slightly at the corners as if he was trying not to laugh.

"I mean Joe's fine! Everything is fine! He's doing fin—"

"Just tell her Meg." Ranger shut the door firmly behind them.

"Yes, please just tell me. You have no idea where my mind goes the minute someone stutters and hesitates. I HATE the word 'fine'! Just spit out whatever the hell it is you have to say!"

Meg's face flushed slightly. "When I got to the prison, I was taken to a room reserved for conjugal visits which are not allowed at NJSP at all."

My breath heaved in.

"Joe and I had pretend to have sex for an hour while being spied on audibly through the door by one of Blutto's goons. The whole thing was engineered by Blutto to get leverage with Joe," she rushed through the explanation.

I stood there, my mouth hanging like an open door with sprung hinges.

"Say what?" I murmured. No way in hell had I heard that correctly.

Ranger couldn't hold back his amusement any longer. "They simulated cheating on us—loudly," he translated helpfully.

I sat down on the couch hard. Of all the things I'd expected to hear about Joe in prison, that was NOT one of them.

My mouth kept forming words, but nothing came out.

"I know it sounds bad, Stephanie," Meg pushed on. "W—We did have to shed a few pieces of clothing and uh—but uh—it was only because the guard might barge in on us. We didn't even touch each other!"

I tried to find a word of assurance, but I was fresh out. Still in shock I suppose.

"It was just a bunch of hooey for the guard's perverted ears," Meg warbled on. "I'm not even sure what the hell I was doing or saying—Joe either for that matter!"

She paced back and forth, obviously hoping I wouldn't fly through the air and pull her hair out. Turning, she faced me eye to eye

"It was the strangest experience of my life! We both laughed our heads off and could hardly breathe. I've had some pretty weird things happen to me, but that topped just about everything!" Meg confessed almost apologetically.

I couldn't even totally picture it. _God, why would I want to?_ I knew there was nothing going on with them. She loved Ranger, and Joe loved me—just the way it should be.

There was no time to be upset.

"What does this mean for Joe? Is Blutto taking him into the fold?" I asked, feeling both glad and terrified at the notion.

"Yes," Ranger responded, eyes narrowing. "That's what we wanted, Stephanie."

"I know! It's just—I want this to be over."

"We all do," Meg agreed.

My phone rang, and I was tempted to ignore it.

Ranger eyed me, expecting I'd at least look at the caller ID. I tried to pretend it wasn't ringing.

"Stephanie, who is it? Why aren't you checking? It could be your stalker, in which case we need to trace the call."

Ranger looked like he was going to take the phone off the table and answer it for me, so I snatched it up before he could do so, checking the caller ID.

Connie.

_Oh boy!_

Ranger mouthed, "Who is it?"

I gave him my cease and desist look and turned my back. "Hi, Connie, any luck?"

"Have I ever let you down?"

"Never. You found something."

"Did I ever. You're going to—wait—you sitting down?"

"No."

"I know you aren't really the swooning type, but this is going to knock you into next week!" she giggled giddily.

"Tell me already!"

"First off, I had to call your mother. She didn't know anything. But then your dad came home and she asked him."

"He knew?" I was about ready to jump out of my skin.

"No, no he didn't know anything either," she said in her slow Jersey drawl.

"Connie, for God's sake—how the heck did you—"

"Grandma Mazur, honey—that woman is like a walking Wikipedia of all things Burg! I tell you her mind is as sharp as a friggin—"

"Connie!" I shouted. Like I needed someone to tell me about my own grandmother and her deliciously nosy nature—the same one I'd inherited.

"Okay, I wrote it all down. It's complicated—you know—in-laws and cousins and all that jazz."

"I'll get a pen and write it down too." Making my way to the desk to grab a wrinkled envelope and pencil, I noticed Ranger and Meg giving one another quizzical looks.

"Okay, Connie, shoot."

"Firstly, Mrs. Brooks—Adele's maiden name is Bennett."

"Oh." My ballooning hope lost liftoff and began to deflate.

"But that wouldn't help you anyway, because Mrs. Brook's sister's married name is White."

And deflate—

"Oh, but that's okay, because that's her sister's married name now. Her second husband's Randall White. Her _first _married name is what matters."

Crossing my fingers, I closed my eyes and wished with all my heart—about to scream at Connie to cough up the information already!

"That name—" Connie stalled as if there should be a drum roll announcing her revelation, "—was Cox!"

A smile lit my face. "And her son's first name was—"

"Larry!" We said in unison.

_Holy MOLY!_ The balloon was shooting straight to the sky now!

"I'll say! He was a fairly new member of the Slayer's gang when you were attacked. I thank God for Sally Sweet and that whacko rescue mission of his to this very day!"

"Me too. Connie, please keep going I'm kind of on a deadline here."

"Remember how some of them were killed and some just scattered away like cockroaches. He was one of the cockroaches!"

"What does that mean exactly? I knew some of them were never caught."

"Keep your FMP's on—I'm gettin' to it."

I took a deep breath and prayed the end of _it_ would answer some very big questions.

"According to what your grandma heard at the Clip 'n Curl, a former neighbor of Mrs. White's, who moved to a new neighborhood, happened to see him a couple of times when he was visiting her new next door neighbors—his aunt and uncle—the Brooks!"

She finally took a breath. She sounded absolutely joyous, though I doubted she had any idea why the hell it should even matter to her.

I did a fist pump, not bothering to look in Ranger and Meg's direction. I'm sure they thought I'd lost my mind by now.

"I guess the story was Marge—that's Larry's mom's first name—was FIT to be tied. Didn't know what the hell to do with her son, and the stepfather was fed up with the trouble and antics getting worse and worse every day. He threatened to leave. It was him or the kid."

"And," I nudged Connie on, hearing her take a big slurp through a straw from the Coke glass I knew she kept filled at her desk.

"Mrs. White, formally Mrs. Cox, asked her sister and brother-in-law to take him in, who just happen to be Commissioner Books and Adele."

"Is there more?"

"Oh yeah, girl—LOTS more," she assured me before going completely silent.

"Connie—TODAY!"

"Well, your grandmother was real helpful, but I had to go to other sources too. You know I never leave a stone unturned—well figuratively anyway. You couldn't get me to be a grave robber—"

"Can we please talk about your disdain of grave robbing another day?"

"Sure. Knowing the surnames and who was who, I called my cousin Luigi. Next to your grandma, he knows everyone who knows everyone. He said Larry goes by Larynx, because he likes to squeeze the life out of things like bugs and cats and wild rodents. Sounds like a real winner as far as sons go."

"Tell me the rest!" I demanded, forgetting all need for decorum. I needed this report yesterday!

They took him in, and somehow they kept his short involvement with the Slayer's a secret. You imagine the humiliation for Brooks to have an association with a known gang member—in his own family no less."

"No, I can't. Interesting," I murmured. My brain was beginning to put puzzle pieces together in a regular mind marathon.

"He stayed with them for awhile, but the trouble really never stopped. Finally, about a year and a half ago, he ran away. He was only seventeen then. He must've been hiding right here in Trenton, because the cops picked him up for a gang related shooting. Now that gang was called Black—something. I didn't quite catch it."

"This is awesome, Connie. You're de bomb!"

She giggled, loving to please people with her knack for digging dirt whenever required. She really was akin to a grave robber. Of course, I'd never mention that to her.

"After I spoke with Luigi, I called Sebring, and he knew all about it. They were set to spring him with the bail bond, but even Brook's influence went so far. NO bail! Though, I'm not sure Brooks even tried seeing as it was a cop that got shot. The cop survived, so Lare's in for attempted murder. Word is, he's not into redeeming himself any in prison, and there's scant hope he ever will—what with all the criminal baloney going on in those walls. Did you know that—?"

"Connie, you've been majorly wonderful. I owe you like a zillion donuts!"

"Wait a minute. How is this something related to a case in Miami? Did he do something there too?"

"Could be," I answered vaguely, feeling a tad guilty. "Thanks! Gotta go!"

Hanging up, I imagined the iron prison bars opening and Joe exiting sooner than I'd ever dreamed. I knew in my gut my other lead was going to pay off too.

Ranger and Meg stood waiting expectantly.

"I have a solid lead on that press leak," I informed them quietly, knowing this was going to have a rippling effect on many people.

Both their mouths flew open in synchronized wonder.

"Who?" They asked, dumbfounded.

Grabbing the prison file with the frontal and profile mug shots, I stared at the terrorizing photo reminder of my close call with the Slayers. I'd seen his face before, and looking at the gang's picture, I found it again.

He'd been there that night in the background. I remembered him looking so young and so scared in the sea of skuzzy, angry and lust-filled expressions of those surrounding me. He'd given me a look I'd never forgotten. Evidently, it was before he'd turned completely to the dark side for he'd had sympathy in his eyes like he'd wanted to cry. Sadly, he'd become hardened and desensitized enough since then to nearly kill a cop. But there _had_ been something in him that was vulnerable and softer.

How sad for his mother and family.

I'd found this miniscule bit of hope in a letter from Mrs. Adele Brooks asking for leniency for her nephew. I'd scanned her signature on the letter and had determined to find out if she was any relation to the Brooks I knew.

Something about the name Marge Cox was familiar as well. I'd heard it before, maybe in one of those many gossip sessions while I'd waited for Grandma's hair to be done or a dinner somewhere. It'd been vague and nebulous in my head, but nonetheless sill there for some unknown, miraculous reason.

Today, I finally remembered.

It'd been a late scorching summer day of picking up skips and hauling them in one after another. Leaving the precinct at one point, I remembered noticing Brooks standing by his car parked next to mine. He'd been in a deep, obviously angry conversation with a young man dressed in black from head to toe.

I only recalled seeing the boy from a side profile and had wondered at the time why anyone would wear the color black in the middle of July! His hair had been spiked and gelled stiff in all different directions, and his wrists adorned in Goth leather bracelets. Something else had lodged deep into my memory—a huge tattoo running up and down the side of his neck ironically depicting two skeletons trying to choke one another.

_Bull's-eye!_

I showed Meg and Ranger the file, explaining my efforts to connect the dots.

"He's Commissioner Brook's nephew by marriage, and they knew he was a Slayer. My guess is his family is one of those being used and blackmailed to get money to perpetrate more crime. And who knows—maybe Brooks has been intimidated to look the other way. He's the one who made sure Joe was arrested in a room full of witnesses. Isn't it possible he ensured the press was there as well?"

"Oh my God!" Meg's hand went over her mouth.

"Why would he do that?" Ranger asked, always needing concrete proof.

Meg took a deep, accepting breath.

"If he was angry and wanted this stopped, maybe he felt he needed to expose it in a way that could never be traced to him. There are press leaks all the time made on purpose. Stars do it—politicians—maybe he thought it would help in some twisted way," she rationalized.

"Joe could have been killed!"

I was angry. I wanted to get to the bottom of it and expose Brooks for the asshole he was.

"NO matter what his agenda was, he put the life of a good—no—great man on the line—one who was already in the process of doing his job to eradicate the crime going on. And instead of having the full support and backup from his superior, he was set up as a friggin' target!"

"I understand how you feel, Stephanie," Meg said softly.

"If this is true, we've got a commissioner to confront. I'll put a call into Michaels." Ranger stepped into the kitchen, leaving Meg and I alone.

"You're good at what you do, Stephanie. No question. At least we know what happened," Meg said sadly. It was quite a blow to know one of their colleagues was in this up to his neck.

"I think we do," I agreed. "It could've been a three ring circus. This whole mission could've been blown, and Joe could be dead because of it! The Press gets tenacious. If they'd caught on—"

"Yes, but we shut the press out. They would've followed this story with noses to the ground like bloodhounds. The higher ups gave them the order to back off, and they did. Believe me, the press isn't as free as you might think."

"I do believe there is never ending corruption going on—everywhere." I tried not to let it depress me, but it felt pretty hopeless sometimes.

"We're the good guys, Stephanie. I know sometimes the lines are blurred," Meg continued, trying to piece it all together. "But I'm sure Brooks was disappointed it didn't get incessant coverage. Once Joe finishes this thing, there will be no more secrets about what goes on in prisons. Brooks had every reason to want the whole tangled web of crime and terrorization to be stopped. He probably thought it would be justifiable in the end—that it would springboard a total revision of all prison protocol nationwide and release him from the hell forced upon him."

"His hell is only beginning when word gets out."

"_If_ it does," Meg warned softly.

My hackles went up. "Why wouldn't it?"

"He's a good man—impeccable record up until now. Do you think it's worth ruining him over his wayward nephew and a massive pack of greedy criminals? We need the whole story before we hang him out to dry."

The old Steph would've yelled at Meg for all this reasonable thinking. The new Steph understood there was more to this. Brooks was caught in a bad place. NOTHING excused him from turning on Joe no matter what cause he believed he'd had.

"There is a chance it could have been another family member," Meg pointed out, tempering my still simmering anger.

"Like his wife?"

"Could be. We need more information."

Ranger strolled back into the room.

"Michaels will be here in a few minutes. He's beside himself. But he wants to see and hear first- hand everything you have to say." He smiled encouragingly. "And he's pretty impressed with your efforts."

"There's more. I think I stumbled on the way that some of this criminal activity is being arranged and smuggled back and forth."

Again, I had their full attention.

I explained my theory of mail tampering by the lawyers or assistants in law offices, knowing full well it was a shot in the dark.

"I told you she was good," Ranger whispered to Meg.

"You did, and she is."

"I haven't had time to check for the possibility of shared council within the cell block, but I'd be willing to bet that there'll be some."

I felt invigorated. Having a clear goal was going to make my job easy. And I had a really good feeling this was just the beginning.

Meg blew out her own aggravation at the monumental corruption we may have uncovered.

"I'm going to arrange for a temporary embargo on the legal based mail in and out of the prison," she declared. "They'll have to hold it with security we can trust. We can't let on that we're on to them. That'll give you a little time to find the links, and I'm thinking they're going to be big. This could be a whole network with more than one prison and one law firm involved. There's a boatload of money to be made by a lot of sleazy people."

"I'll say, and lawyers are some of the _worst_. What a clusterfuck!" Ranger's normally even-keeled disposition was obviously incensed by the idea of how far-spreading the tentacles of evil had twisted and turned in every direction infiltrating anything and anyone.

We still don't know how the electronics are being smuggled inside, but I think this may provide a clue," Meg added. She excused herself to the kitchen, already tapping in numbers on her phone.

"You want him home pretty badly," Ranger noted understandingly. His dark eyes gleamed.

"You can't begin to know how much," I breathed.

"I think you just made a huge step toward that homecoming." He smiled, and for the first time in many weeks, I felt like smiling back.

"I just hope there are no more surprises," I said, having no clue how futile my wish would turn out to be.


	40. Chapter 40

Hello, hope everyone has a great weekend.

Carol and Kimmy, Wow! I thought the last chapter was a bear. This one just about gnawed my head off! If it hadn't been for the two of you, I think I'd still be trying to figure out what POV to write. Thanks from the bottom of my heart for all your help and patience.

Thanks to everyone for taking the time to read and review, you're all AWESOME!

Chapter 40

**Meg's POV**

Carlos' office door stood open.

Standing just outside, his nightly brandy in my hand, I could hear him on the phone, and I hesitated to enter. The tone of his voice indicated the conversation was serious.

"Okay I'll get back with you soon. No, don't count me out, though it may be awhile before I can get away to help."

As soon as he hung up, I entered the room, and immediately, his eyes darted uneasily from mine.

"Business?" I asked, trying to remain casual but overflowing with curiosity. _What kind of 'help' was he referring to?_

"Yes," he admitted softly. "We need to talk." His expression indicated he was dreading the experience more so than usual.

"Was that about Brooks?" I asked, setting the brandy down on his desk blotter.

I was giving him the benefit of a doubt, but knowing my Carlos, I was pretty sure the conversation I overhead had nothing to do with Trenton or the surrounding area, which gave my heart unsettling palpitations.

"As far as I know, Juniak was in on the conference call with Michaels and the Mayor this morning. I haven't been updated."

"It was terrible seeing Brooks so humiliated and beaten down," I said, sitting in the leather, tufted armchair to the left of his desk.

Getting out of Rangeman for Brooks' interrogation had been a great reprieve, even though it'd been late at night and only for a couple of hours. Unfortunately, the circumstances had been pretty sad.

"When we questioned him with Michaels, it seemed almost as if Brooks was waiting to be cuffed and led off to prison to join Joe and your men."

"He had his reasons for his actions and choosing to do what he did, but it wouldn't have been my choice," Ranger observed, shaking his head and taking a long swig of his brandy.

How true! If Carlos had been in Brooks shoes, he would've strode right into that prison, hung the perps up by their toenails and tortured them into leaving his family alone.

Neither of their reactions would've been my preference.

"Aren't you joining me tonight?" Carlos asked, eyeing my empty hands. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who'd become fond of our nightly ritual.

"Not tonight. It's—I'm not really in the mood for it."

"Do you want something else?" he asked solicitously.

"No, I'll be fine. So what do you think will end up happening to Brooks?"

"He may be forced to take an early retirement. Or possibly this will be swept under the carpet, and he'll be a much humbler, more quietly spoken commissioner for the remainder of his career."

We could only hope. "The TPD doesn't need any more complications. They have their hands full."

"Agreed. And the man has given exemplary service up until now. From the looks of him, he's suffering plenty already."

Ranger moved to the window to stare out into the midnight blue sky. For some reason, the action made me even more nervous.

"You said we needed to talk?" I ventured uncertainly.

"Yeah." He perched himself on the edge of his desk. Jerking his head toward the phone, he added, "That was my friend Odawa."

"The one in Somalia?" Warning chills traveled up my spine.

"He needs me," he offered simply.

"Carlos, you promised." I gave him a warning look. "Somalia is one of the most volatile, unsafe—"

"It's just a job."

"The kind of job you promised me you'd never do again!" I snapped.

His voice took on a steely resistance. "You don't even know the details. If you did—"

"I know enough. For God's sake, I'm an FBI agent! I get the hourly alerts. I know what's going on in every place in this world that isn't secure!" My hands were two stiffened fists at my sides.

"No place in this world is secure, Meg. You know that. But it's immaterial anyway. I can't leave here—not now. We have the whole damned prison operation to get through, first."

"First?"

My head swam with the idea of him going to that Godforsaken country for any reason. White-hot fear coursed through me at the mere thought of him being in danger. He'd agreed to give it up. We'd _both _agreed to give it up and live as close to a normal life as possible. _Had he just been paying lip service to me all this time?_

He took a deep breath. "I can't turn my back on this. One more mission—that's all I'm asking."

"Asking or decreeing?" Gut-wrenching, physical detachment was already coming between us.

"We're discussing it, aren't we?" he shot back. The inflexible set of his jaw was easily detectable.

"Please, swear to me you won't go there."

"You know I can't do that." His eyes were black orbs, defiant at being corralled into doing or not doing anything to please me.

Walking to his side, my hand caressed his face. My eyes implored him to see my love, my concern and my profound need for him to let go of his self-inflicted penances.

"For us?" I whispered.

Groaning slightly, he pulled me into a blistering kiss.

When our lips parted, I shook my head and danced out of his reach in teasing seriousness. "You're not getting your way by knocking my senses into next week."

He chuckled, a little too pleased. "Is that what I do to you?"

"You overblown, egotistical maniac!" The man made me batty! Half the time I didn't know whether to kiss him or deck him.

He pulled me back. "_You're _trying to seduce _me_ now," he teased, lightly biting my lip with his teeth—followed by hot, breathy nibbles along my neck.

"Oh, you wish! This isn't getting you out of your promise. You're not going to Somalia," I told him in no uncertain terms.

His responded by sweeping me into his arms and sealing my open declaration with hungry wildfire kisses.

Much later, we lay entangled in the aftermath of our scorching-hot lovemaking. Carlos' husky voice nuzzled my ear, as his muscular arms tightened around me.

"I got side-tracked before."

"Oh, did you? How did that happen?" I marveled factiously, while stroking his chest.

Laughing softly, he kissed my fingers.

I tried to shake the feeling that dissuading him had been too easy. While I'd completely distracted both of us off the subject, it still needed resolving in my mind.

"Carlos, you're not going anywhere—right?"

"Do I have my boots on?" His lips tilted up tantalizingly, and I had to kiss both sides of his mouth.

"I don't want anything to happen to you—not ever!" Facing him, my eyes begged for him to see my sincerity.

"You do know I was in Special Forces, right? I've worked with the best of the FBI, CIA—"

"I know, and I'm one of them. I don't care!" My voice hitched. "You can't go, Carlos. Please—you know my past. I've lost too much. I couldn't handle losing you too."

His hand reached out to caress my cheek.

"You won't, Cobre. Now relax—you need to sleep. We've been pretty busy tonight, and now you'll have that 'I've been thoroughly ravished' look all day tomorrow. My men won't let me live it down."

"_You're _concerned about your men and what they think? Since when?" I asked skeptically. "Besides, I'd think your manly pride would be pumped to have your men see how thoroughly you satisfy me."

_God, I loved teasing him. _

"Do I?" he fished.

"Huh-uh—one compliment a day is all you can handle, otherwise you'll need a larger cowboy hat!"

"Enough with the western jokes," he growled softly through his teeth.

Laughing uncontrollably at the look on his face, I tried to stop, but still managed a few more breathless chuckles. He got halfway out of bed and glowered comically. Narrowing his eyes, he pointed at me.

"There _will_ be retribution."

"You're such a grump." Crawling on my knees across the bed, my eyes became sadly serious. "As long as you promise to be here—I'll handle whatever payback you want to dish out."

"Again with that? Come on, Meg!" He sounded like a longsuffering, nagged-to-death husband.

My hand ran over his chest. "You're not going. I need your word on this, Carlos."

"Trust me; I won't leave you."

We kissed to seal his vow.

**Ranger's POV**

I had no intention of leaving or letting her go, but I _was _going after Aamar. He had to be stopped. Meg would eventually understand; she just needed time. We shared the same desire to rid the world of scum, so once she gave it some thought, she'd be on board. I'd return home safely and then devote myself to giving her the life she deserved.

"I almost forgot to tell you earlier. I got another call from Tank, summoning me to the prison first thing in the morning to meet with Morelli."

"Why? What's up?" For the second time that evening, cold chills snaked up my spine.

"I'm not sure."

"Did you tell Stephanie?"

"No, and I think we should keep this between us, until we know what the situation is."

"I agree. She's had some pretty decent days lately."

"I don't want to spoil that, unless we have to."

"You're a good friend."

"I'm extremely good at _everything_ I do," I assured her, kissing her into passionate, completely sated agreement.

After my secret meeting with Morelli in the warden's office, I found myself once again at Stephanie's apartment, dreading the fact she had no choice but to be in up to her neck in the latest developments inside that prison. Divulging Blutto's explicit, sickly stolen pictures of her had been bad enough. This was far worse. I actually felt sorry for Morelli—again.

Stephanie opened the door. She looked good. Color was back in her cheeks, and her eyes were alive with excitement.

Some of the reason was due to having found that a few intersecting inmates were sending and receiving documents from the same law firm. Research into the firm had revealed Dickie Orr, her ex-husband, had been an invested partner for the last year. Not surprisingly, after checking Orr's bank records, we found he'd raced through the bulk of his recently and questionably acquired forty million dollar fortune. It didn't prove his involvement in the mail scam, but it certainly screamed motive and opportunity.

Whoever was found responsible for the illegal communication in official court documents would be held accountable and charged with collusion and an accessory to all crimes committed. If Dickie was in on it, then Stephanie would be instrumental in putting him and that law firm out of business forever.

"Hey," she greeted me warmly. "I didn't expect to see you until later. Meg said you had a busy day ahead. When you weren't with us at breakfast, I assumed you'd be gone a while—" Her animated rambling stopped. "What's wrong?"

_Damn, how had she seen through _

"We need to talk."

"Yes, we do. What's going on with Meg? She was even bitchier than normal. She nearly snapped my head off twice. Jeez! It had to be something you did, because it damn well wasn't my fault! We've been getting along as much as we ever do, so it had to be you. Did you two fight?"

"Not that it's your business, but no. This isn't what—"

"If you did something, you better just admit you're wrong. She's not fun to be around when she's in a bad mood, and it's hard enough being stuck here without you adding—"

"Enough already!" I blew out my aggravation. "Don't you have enough on your plate?" I asked her sardonically. She was about to get more without needing to add my crazy love life to the mix.

"I—just—I think she's really good for you, and I don't want you screwing it up."

"Thanks for the support."

"I know you, remember?" she pushed as always.

"All too well."

"It—our friendship goes both ways. You can tell me anything. I'm a woman. I might be able to steer you in the right direction—though God knows most men never want to take any advice."

"Fine—we're fine," I grumbled.

"Hey, it's me you're talking to. I know firsthand how stupid you are where women are concerned."

"Thanks," I fired back in irritation.

_Shit!_

First, I had this to get through with Stephanie, and then apparently I had more artillery to dodge with Meg. I could've sworn we'd come to at least a temporary understanding. I hadn't actually promised her I'd give up my plan to go to Somalia entirely, but I hadn't said I was leaving any time soon either. _What the hell did it take to please these female creatures?_

A smile twitched at her mouth. "You're toast."

"Excuse me? What the hell does that mean?"

"She's got you. I never thought the day would come, but you and that street smart Superhero act are dead in the water when it comes to Meg. You've met your worst nightmare—a woman who's tamed you but good!" She moved around me, as though accessing a lab rat with an abnormality.

"That's bull!" I insisted stubbornly. "I'm the same man I've always been!"

She laughed. "Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Batman. It's important to me for you to be happy. You've needed it for a long time."

"I'm working on it," I mumbled wearily. "Now can we change topics? We have business to discuss."

"Fine." She finally gave it a rest. "What's up?"

"I—"

"Wait a minute," Steph interrupted once again before I could open my mouth. "You never told me how it went with Brooks when you and Michaels went to confront him."

"It wasn't pleasant." I wasn't about to admit to Stephanie I'd let Meg have a chance to get outside the walls of Rangeman. She'd have my head for not including her.

"Now there's an understatement."

"He acted as if he'd been expecting us. The guilt was chewing him into hamburger."

"He admitted he was the dirty, rotten rat?" she asked. Sitting down, she held onto the arm of the chair, obviously filled with fiery indignation.

"He confessed to everything. His wife and daughters were being threatened. His sister-in-law and her husband too. He wanted—just as Meg had deduced—to expose it all. He called the press anonymously, making damned sure they captured Joe's arrest nationwide."

She started to let her temper get the better of her. "What a stupid, careless son of a—"

I held up my hand. "He intended to continue to stoke the embers on the story right up until Morelli and my men turned it all upside-down in prison. He claimed he only had the best of intentions—said he wanted the threats to stop. He figured giving it national news coverage would light a fire under Federal and State factions to annihilate the crime from prison. He wanted the citizens to be forewarned and forearmed."

"Yeah right—armed enough to shoot an innocent man!" Stephanie griped angrily. "Someone in that angry mob could've killed Joe! Luckily, it was a rookie police officer with a shaky trigger finger, because it could've been anyone. There would've been _no _prison operation!" She popped to her feet filled with livid energy.

"Brooks wasn't himself. He was worried sick about his family, and, yes, he was manipulated into turning his head the other way on several gang related issues. He's a mess. I feel for him. He could've done things differently. He really thought he was on the right track. He asked me to apologize to Morelli for him, which I did."

"Well, that's the least—wait—you saw Joe?" Her attention was totally diverted, and she sat down again, eager for news.

"That brings me to the reason I'm here. We need to talk about something very important." I took a seat; much as I had the day I presented those damned photos.

"I brought you something you should read before we do." I figured Joe's words might bring some solace. There was no simple way to break the news.

I handed her the envelope with Morelli's handwriting scrawled slantingly across it. "He wrote to you directly this time. I was cleared for exit without inspection by the FBI."

She clutched it to her heart like it was a miracle drug.

"I'm going step out while you read it. When you're through, I'll be waiting."

"Ranger, what's going on?" Her eyes were glassy. "I can see by your expression something bad has happened."

"Read Morelli's letter. It'll be somewhat easier coming from him."

"Wha—okay," she acquiesced, seeing my stony countenance. I wasn't going to budge, and she knew me well enough to get that.

Staring at the closed polished wood door, I took a deep breath and hoped something might happen to change what Stephanie was about to read. Looking up at the ceiling, I also wondered what Meg had in store for me.

It would be good day to go into the wind.

If only I could.

**Steph's POV**

My fingers shook as I opened the envelope. I felt upset inside already, and I didn't even know the whole reason why. I missed Joe so much! A part of me was overjoyed to be holding another letter from him, and yet I knew there was something to dread in the message.

Unfolding the pages, the first word leapt out washing over me like one of his warm embraces.

_Cupcake_

Seeing his writing hit me deeply, and moisture stung at my eyes.

I missed his voice. I missed hearing him say the nickname he'd christened me with so long ago with the intonation only his unique resonance held. His heartfelt emotions toward me always sweetly there behind the silly endearment whenever he'd used it.

As I read his written words, I could hear that voice in my head.

_Cupcake,_

_I'm not one to beat around the bush, and I'm not going to pretend things aren't getting complicated right now. It has nothing to do with my living conditions, though being locked away from you is a prison in itself. _

_I promised I wouldn't keep you in the dark about this operation. Little did I know, no truer words have ever been spoken. _

_Stephanie, why people gravitate toward you with constant insanity and malicious agendas all the time is a mystery. You're much too beautiful and sweet to have this continue. I hope someday it will end, but I'm sorry to say it isn't now._

_Blutto totally blames you for his being incarcerated. He's obsessed with you, and has decided to focus all his hatred and frustration toward you. It wasn't just the pictures—it's more. He's a certifiable, totally immoral, and revolting lunatic. Those words are complimentary compared to what I'd like to call him. _

_I detest having to tell you this. My God, I never imagined things would take this turn. _

_He's taken me under his wing as we hoped. I'm being given an initiation project to start my supposedly long association with his madness. _

_There's no easy way to put this into words. I hate I even have to try. _

_His number one priority is to have you killed. He has assigned that impossible to task to me._

I had to read it again to make sure I was seeing what Joe had written correctly.

_Holy shit! Blutto wanted me dead, and Joe was supposed to kill me?_ What the hell! The implications of those words swirled like a tornado in my head. I had to lower it between my legs as I had many times in the past when encountering instant shock. The dizziness subsided, and I returned to the letter.

_I can only imagine what reading this is doing to you. I wish I were there to hold you in my arms and give you everything you need, because that would be giving me everything I need—which is you._

I closed my eyes against the raw pain I felt at his words.

_I need you too, Morelli. Oh God—what this must be doing to you!_

Forcing my eyes back open, I continued reading.

_I can imagine your shock. I couldn't believe it either! I'm sure it feels like a nightmare that won't end. _

_But Cupcake, this is a blessing, albeit in one hell of a disguise. If he'd put a regular hit out on you, it would be way worse. This way I can protect you. Together, you and I will pull this off. There's no one I trust more. You're so damned rare! How lucky I was to have found exactly the right woman for me—sexy, feminine to the core of your huge heart and hard as nails on the outside whenever necessary. _

_You need to be hard as nails right now. _

I blew out a breath. I knew Joe would protect me. That's all he'd done for years.

_Trust me. _

I did.

_We'll make this work. Both of us will be safe, and I WILL come home to you._

_I love you more every day._

God, I loved him too!

_It's hard to fathom how twisted and warped this whole thing has become. _

_Manoso and have a plan to simulate your death, as well as a way to keep you sequestered so no one finds out you're still alive afterwards. This is going to suck even worse than what you've had to endure already, but it __**will**__ be over soon. We have to keep our eyes on the prize. _

_No doubt you're going to be concerned about your family and our friends needlessly grieving over you. Unfortunately, there probably isn't any way we can avoid that. It'd be too risky to let anyone else in on this. _

_The good news is I'll get see you for a little while—just not at all in the way we'd hoped. I'm sure I won't be alone on this mission. It's highly unlikely Blutto will trust me completely on my own. _

_So what I'd say to you in person needs to be said now._

_I'm crazy in love with you, Stephanie. Just thinking about you makes me smile. You make every part of my body come alive. Mr. Happy isn't alone in that! My heart and soul are right there too. _

_I'm so damned proud of you! Manoso told me about your amazing sleuthing skills. Michaels is about to add a consultant to our team at the precinct even if he doesn't know it yet. No one deserves it more. Having you by my side daily would make me appreciate my job in a whole new light. Lunchtime—break-time—after hours—on my desk or yours—I think there's even a pretty nice sized supply closet in the basement we can confiscate as our secret rendezvous spot. _

_All teasing aside, this __**will**__ be over. I understand you're scared—more for me than yourself. Yes, I know you that well, and I feel the same. Nothing will happen to you, and I have so many reasons to live. I'll be okay. No worries. _

_Manoso will take it from here, keeping you appraised of the details. I don't have the exact date, place or time, but it will be soon. _

_Cupcake, you know how much I hate it when you cry—especially when I'm not there to hold you and have my chest act as your handkerchief for those rare tears of yours. My fingers are there in spirit, brushing away each one as they drop. _

I couldn't help but laugh through the pain.

_How did he always know?_

I put my fingers to my wet cheeks as if to caress his hand, almost feeling it. Finishing the letter, blurred vision encountered words that seemed to run together.

_Hope you, Bob and Rex know how very much you are cherished and missed. _

_Love you, Steph._

_Always,_

_Morelli_

_PS. The prize is the two of us—together forever._

I swiped at the tears.

_Do you know how much you're loved and missed by us? I trust you with my life, Joe. Always. _

He was so right. If any two people can pull this off, it was Morelli and me—together forever.

After making sure remnants of my blubbering were barely visible, I opened the door. Ranger gave me one look and embraced me in a warm hug. I needed it. That 'me being dead' thing had hit harder than I'd realized.

"We'll pull this off B—Stephanie," Ranger assured me, as he walked in and closed the door behind him.

**Meg's POV**

Carlos came into the apartment looking like he expected third world warfare. His guilty eyes avoided my own, and it sent warning signals coursing through me. I'd felt uneasy all day, but until that moment, I'd thought it had more to do with the prison operation than the tension between Carlos and me.

"How did it go with Stephanie?" I asked.

He'd called from the car on his way back from prison to apprise me of the latest developments. I couldn't help but feel badly for her. It was one damned thing after another. _When would she and Joe be free to be together—and happy?_ Someone had to end up happy at the end of this nightmare.

"As well as could be expected," he replied in his typical chatterbox way.

His eyes continued to dodge mine.

"Carlos, why won't you look at me?"

"I just—are we good? Last night—you know, everything's resolved, right?" he questioned almost reluctantly.

I eyed him suspiciously. "We're good if you make good on your promise."

His silence spoke volumes.

"You did say you weren't going anywhere." Sometimes it took holding promises over a person's head if need be, and if that didn't work, threatening bodily harm was always a good option!

"I did—somewhat." He shook his head. "Meg, it may not be a promise I can keep."

"No," I gritted through my teeth.

"I didn't tell you everything. It's—"

"If you say it's complicated, I'm going to scream." I blew out my frustration.

"It's a friend who needs help, but there's more to it. Do you remember our old nemesis Aamar and that first mission where you and I met? Well, he's in Somalia now, hammering his wrath, wreaking havoc and pirating and plaguing that besieged country. He's like another Blutto! You and I had a chance at him, and we–_I_—failed."

I opened my mouth to correct him, but he cut me off.

"It's time that imbecile was put to rest, and it's MY fault he's still running loose. Now six years later, and he's still murdering innocent woman and children. Think of the ruin he's brought in those years! If I had just out-smarted him that first time, none of this would've happened."

I turned away, feeling both torn and disgusted. Making my decision quickly, I wheeled back and zeroed in on him.

"How is it your fault? You can't take the world on your shoulders. Let it go, Carlos! Aamar is more insane than Blutto. He's like Satan himself! I _don't _want you to go. Please! I know it's hard to turn your back on a friend. I respect your desire to help him—all of them—but you could die! I can't stay here and wait for you only to have you not come home someday."

I held out my arms, pleading for him to see reason.

"Carlos, I told you I couldn't stand it, and I meant it. I'm not going to go through that kind of uncertainty and pain on a daily basis. I'd be worried sick every time you walked out the door."

He had to understand our lives of danger and recklessness had to end, or we could never be together.

"Meg, I'll come home! I have a better reason than ever for wanting to be here. Yes, he's cunning, but you know I'm better. And if anyone can get that Bastard finally—it's me!" He pointed to himself with pride and self-assurance. That wild courage was something I strongly admired and dreaded at the same time.

"I know you'd be willing to die trying!" I retorted.

"As you've been too with your job!" he snapped back.

We've done good things, Carlos. We've put a lot of bad people away. When is it going to be our turn to have some happiness—some peace? _We_ can't fix it all, and _you _can't either. I'm willing and ready to give it up. When will you be?"

**Ranger's POV**

"Meg—Cobre—"

"Call me that when I feel like hearing it, Carlos. If you won't give up that life, we've got nothing more to talk about!"

She stalked off, slamming the bedroom door tightly behind her. The locks clicked. Jesus, you'd think she'd know by now how useless it was to lock doors on me.

Nothing would ever keep me out.

Shrugging off my anxiety and choosing to let her cool her heels, I headed for the door. She'd see reason eventually and come to her senses.

It was just a matter of time.

**Steph's POV**

"Okay, Blutto, you want to come after me? Great. Watch out sucker, because I'm coming after you too!"

Pulling up the file on him again, I studied it for anything that might give me a clue to his weaknesses. I was just beginning to research the names of Blutto's seven grossly spawned children by multiple wives when I heard a rapid knock on the door.

It was Ranger, looking agitated and upset—quite a rare sight when it came to him.

"What's wrong? Oh my God! Tell me it isn't tonight?"

My hand went over my chest. Even the mere idea it could be prime time for my 'killing' nearly sent me into cardiac arrest. Joe might not have much left to do once he arrived on the scene. My legs were shaking, and my late lunch felt like a bag of stones in my gut.

"What—NO! I'm not here for that," Ranger barked in return.

My eyebrows rose when he strode into the apartment, looking around as if searching for something he'd misplaced. He did a quick exploration of my bathroom and the closet. I half expected him to drop to his knees and look under my bed next. Heading for a storage closet in the kitchen next, Bob growled and rushed over to snatch his coveted hidden bone away from Ranger's prowling hands.

"Shit, Ranger—you scared me to death! What the hell are you looking for?"

I started to look too, having no clue as to why. It was like when someone started whispering on the phone, and you automatically whispered back for no good reason.

"Meg," he confessed, running a hand behind his neck. "Have you seen her?"

"No. Why did you think she'd be here?"

"I've looked everywhere else. The monitors haven't detected her anywhere in the building."

"Huh?" I felt my own curiosity bubbling.

"You heard me; she's gone."

Ranger was the one who looked lost.

"Maybe she got fed up with being confined and snuck out for a walk. I've thought about it myself—"

His warning glare shut me up fast.

"Don't you dare even think about it; I've already got one woman AWOL!" He stood, hands on his hips, in his favorite Batman pose. The only thing missing was the mask and cape.

"If she took a walk, she'll be back. Cool your jets. She's probably already upstairs searching under the bed for you!"

"No, she's not. My men completely failed to detect her departure."

"She is FBI, you know. Covert operations are her specialty."

"No shit!"

"You're slipping, Ranger. What—no tracking device on her? Haven't you given her a conveniently bugged bracelet or watch?"

"No—she'd kill me if I tried that!"

_What do you know? _I could've learned something from Meg.

"She's won't be gone long. She's too hung up on you. Wherever she went, she'll be back."

"No, she won't," he stated morosely.

"How do you know?"

"Most of her clothing is gone too," he confided, and I saw a speck of panic in his eyes. "I thought she might have moved in with you, since the other apartments are full."

"Why would she leave you? Wait—don't tell me; let me guess." I shook my head pityingly and ran down the mental Top Three list of completely understandable reasons to dump Ranger.

"Did you refuse to tell her something secret you've been hiding? Have you kept all your sentences to less than three words? Did you make her eat nothing but healthy food? That was a deal-breaker for me, you know. Really, Ranger—not everyone thinks of their body as a friggin' temple. Some people actually enjoy eating sugar—"

"This has NOTHING to do with food! Meg eats healthily!" he interrupted, shooting daggers at me for my factually incriminating list.

"Well goody for her!"

"She's perfect—for me." He nearly choked trying to say it.

"Yeah? Then why did you make her feel she had to leave you?"

"I did nothing of the kind," he denied flatly, his eyes darkening.

"Go find her, you idiot, and bring her back. She's going to Joe's in two days anyway, so you—"

"Fuck! That's it. She's there now," he growled. "And I don't have anyone on her. The FBI probably doesn't even know she's relocated. This is _no_ time for her to be stupid and careless!"

Grabbing his phone, he talked faster than I'd ever heard him before. His face was flushed with anger by the time he was through.

"They're getting someone on it now. Damn woman didn't even notify them! You wait until I get my hands on her!"

_Oh brother. _

"Ranger, you need to take tonight and get a grip. She's not going to be responsive to your domineering, caveman attitude. I sure as hell wouldn't be."

"Too bad!"

"Maybe she wasn't sure you would care she left."

"What's that supposed to mean?" His ebony eyes narrowed. "I care, but she's impossible! She should be more compliant."

"I can't believe you have me defending her, but do you even hear yourself?" The knots already formed in my neck became tighter. _How and why had I ever believed his controlling ways were right for me?_ "You act like she's your robot, Ranger."

"That's the problem," he agreed, joking feebly. "She needs reprogramming."

**Joe's POV**

Tank, Hector, Cal and I finally had some rare time nearly alone at the prison. Normally, our communications were confined to whispers, hand and eye signals and unadulterated, natural instincts.

This day we'd been assigned a job together and had taken the golden opportunity to converse quietly about the latest developments, while unloading a huge food truck behind the doubled entrance doors that led to the prison's storage garage. Armed guards were outside but were busy conversing—only too happy to ignore us as we did our work.

"I hear she did impressive work on exposing Brooks," Cal commented, handing down a crate. "She also figured out that the mail from lawyers could be involved. Have we gotten results from the decoding lab at the FBI?"

"Last I heard the FBI Decryption Department found nothing to indicate a complex configuration or code in the letters themselves," I replied in an undertone. "From what Ranger told me, they did detect one thing. There's a discrepancy found consistently within all the mail from one law firm. Coincidentally, _her_ ex-husband is a member of that firm."

We were being careful not to use Steph's name out loud.

Tank's smile was wide, but he kept his voice to an almost undetectable whisper. "Well, I'll be damned. Dickie Orr could be up to his thick skull in this? Wouldn't that be nice for her to—"

"Kill two stones in the bush, with one bird in the hand!" Hector supplied proudly.

"Something like that," I agreed, hiding my laughter. The poor guy tried so hard.

He smiled affectionately in my direction, and I pretended not to notice. He _really_ needed to find someone his type.

"What did the FBI find in the letters?" Tank asked curiously. I'd taken his usual place in meeting with Manoso and had yet to fill him in on pertinent information.

"The court docket numbers don't match up to the actual cases, and some Latin terms normally accepted as legalese have been tampered with, changing their meaning. The docket numbers on each of the pieces of mail are incorrect."

Tank let out a low whistle.

I nodded. "I know. They're running through some older correspondence inside closed case files to find out if those numbers correspond to the dates, addresses, places or times of previously committed crimes. If they do, then Bingo! _She _found a virtual goldmine of information we can use for busting whatever might be going down in the future."

I sounded as proud as I felt. _God, I missed her!_

"She did good," Cal agreed nodding as well.

"How's she taking the latest development?" Tank asked. His voice was filled with concern.

"I have no idea, but I hope okay."

I'd been having a hard time focusing on anything but worrying about her reaction to the grenade dropped over her in my letter. I hoped I'd tempered it with enough loving reassurance that she'd trust everything would be okay.

"Even though we rescue her a fare share, she shore ain't no wilting flower that one," Tank assured me.

"No, she isn't," I agreed, feeling the familiar jolt of love every time I realized how fantastic she was.

"Is that little guy bothering you, Joe? We noticed he's been at your side in the yard a lot. Just say the word, and we can take care of him. I know he's trying to be the next James Bond for you, but he could end up getting us all killed," Cal said agitatedly.

I laughed. "He's like an old barnacle. I can flick him off when I need too."

"Seriously, Morelli," Tank interjected.

"I don't think we're in any danger from him," I continued. "He seems harmless. Yes, he has delusions he'd make a great spy, but don't worry, it's under control. At least he's on our side."

My three cohorts smiled at me, stopping the transfer of boxes and crates momentarily. I caught Cal and Hector giving Tank a slight nod.

"We got to tell you—we respect Ranger's wishes for us to pitch in here, and we're loyal to our boss. But we—all of us—well—whatever happens from here on out, we respect you too for what you're doing. This ain't just another job to us. We're a team now. We're doing this for you as much as her."

I smiled at them appreciatively, acknowledging silently how much that meant to me.

Funny how people grew on you that you'd never envision yourself becoming close to or even exchanging more than a casual wave when you passed by in your car. Now I'd always think of these three guys as my allies.

"We both appreciate that more than you know," I said, as we continued doing the work silently. There was a new feeling of banding together. We were a team. And that was something I'd never imagined happening.

"You two—she and you—go simpatico," Hector noted, finally admitting defeat in his affectionate feelings toward me.

At least I hoped he was.

We were finishing unloading the last few boxes on the truck, when I felt the weight of the crate in my hands. Hector and I were sharing the bulk—one on either side.

"Wait a minute!" I signaled him to put his end down. "This crate says there are dinner rolls in it. This feels way heavier than it should. Doesn't it?"

"Si," he nodded.

"Tank, go see what you can do to distract the guards over there. We need to open this and inspect it."

"On it." He swung down off the truck, and I watched until he had the guards go inside the garage to do whatever he was asking them to do.

We didn't have much to pry the lid off with, but searching around, I found a screwdriver lying between the remaining crates. I handed it over to Hector's outstretched hand, and he had the suspicious box opened in no time. We spread the hundreds of bags of rolls apart, and there they were.

"Holy shit. We hit the jackpot!"

Guns.

Disassembled and hidden—barrels, slides and frames—probably more parts were in other crates being smuggled into the prison. _Who the hell was behind this?_ _And what exactly was being planned?_ Was it a small rebellion from one cellblock or a huge prison-wide riot? This was more than any of us had bargained for.

"We need to get this closed up and inside. No one can know we are on to them."

Hector did it quickly, and we wordlessly unloaded the rest of the truck. We found the same out of proportion weight to a crate marked Saltines, and another marked Teabags. _How many of these shipments had come in filled with contraband, and how were they getting them out of kitchen storage to wherever they were hiding them within the prison walls?_

I needed to get word to the FBI and Manoso to begin a covert but thorough search to ascertain answers. They'd need to start with the Commissary—another place where delivery trucks dropped off large amounts of cargo.

Later that week, Tad made a move to talk to me again. I'd been avoiding him when I could, because I didn't want Blutto to notice him with me. If I were to agree to use him to spy, our open association would have to be non-existent.

That day he followed me to my usual place in the yard. I felt badly doing it once again, but it couldn't be helped.

"Get the HELL out of my way, old man. I don't want to be pestered by you!" My back was to the rest of the men in the yard, and I signaled to Tad to play along. Of course he missed my true intent.

"Well, you don't have to be so gosh darned rude! I was just going to tell you—"

"Not now!" I shushed him under my breath, turning so I could eye the other prisoners in the yard.

His face transformed from hurt to obvious understanding. _God—he'd never make it as a poker player._

"You don't want to talk, Joe? Fine! I was just going to tell you that your shirt is un-tucked. But hey, go ahead and walk around looking like a slob. See if I care!" He stomped off after making certain I caught his over-exaggerated wink.

I waited for the ideal opportunity before grabbing him by the back of his shirt and hauling him into the community bathroom on my way back into the building. Hiking him up on the edge of the toilet, I made sure it would appear only one of us was inside should the stall be checked by guards. His eyes danced in merriment as he straddled the toilet. Apparently, I could do no wrong as far as he was concerned.

"Spit it out quick before they do a headcount."

"I heard something again."

"Shit!" I swiped my hand across the back of my head and stared up at him. It was like having a badly behaved child on my hands. "I told you to do NOTHING!"

"Well, I thought you might want to know," he insisted, irritated. "They're planning to break someone out of prison."

_How in the hell had he managed to grab my full blasted attention again?_

"When? What did you hear?"

"I heard them talking with Blutto and a couple of the guards, including the one that dyed his hair to match yours."

"And?"

"And I heard them say 'break out and soon'."

"That's it? No date?"

"Now that you mention it—I heard—damn it—I know I heard a number. Twenty-seven," he whispered vaguely.

"Did you hear the month?"

"No, but it could be this month. It's not the twenty-seventh—not until next weekend."

"Think hard Tad. Was a month mentioned or a day of the week? We could narrow down the month by that. This is vitally important."

"I—uh—damn the old brain just ain't as sharp with the recordings anymore. I think I've had too many aluminum canned pops. You know they say memory loss can be caused—"

"Tad, you have to remember!" I ordered impatiently.

"Uh—" He shook his head and then hit his temple—mad at himself for the lack clarity. "Wait—It's coming back! Next weekend someone is getting out to do something. I'm not sure if he is actually being released because his sentence is up or–no, it has to be that. They can't actually break someone out of here to go do something and get them back in, can they?"

"Doubtful," I answered vaguely. _The hell they couldn't._

"That's what I figured. Say, I remembered something else!" he said excitedly. "That guy with your hair was laughing like something was funny. He said he was going to enjoy doing some damage. Uh—something about inciting some of the prisoners—past arrestees who already hate you. He was rubbing his hands together like one of them villains in the movies!"

"Tad—"

"How's he going to do that, Joe?" the little guy questioned me. Thankfully, he appeared naive to the true meaning of what he'd overheard.

"I haven't a clue, but thanks. You did well. NOW NO MORE!" I admonished, shaking a finger toward his stomach. "You aren't listening to me, Tad, and I'm afraid you're going to get yourself into a place where I _won't_ be able to protect you. Promise me that's IT! No more spying!"

"You're wrong about me, Joe. I don't think I _can_ stop. It's way too much fun. And in a place like this, fun times are few and far between. Besides, you need me whether you'll admit it or not."

"Listen—"

"I'm an old man," he interrupted again. "If something happens, it happens." He shook his head. "No, I'm going to keep helping you no matter what you say!"

He shocked me then by jumping down off his porcelain perch and exiting the bathroom faster than I could catch the spry little guy.

_Damned, if he wasn't getting to me!_

Stephanie's penchant for attracting and taking strangely endearing weirdo's under her wing was slowly rubbing off on me.

I had to stay focused. Next weekend everything would start coming to a head, and I had to be careful, precise and completely on my game to make my 'initiation' appear to go off without a hitch.

And then there was the matter of those rifle parts we'd found. _Were there a few more? Hundreds more? How many of the inmates and prison employees were on Blutto's side?_

I sure as hell wasn't counting anyone out—except maybe Tad. But whatever lied ahead, I knew it could get violent, bloody and possibly alter many lives forever. I just prayed we'd be ahead of them—ready with our own plan of attack.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Hi Everyone! Hope you're having a great weekend!

I know my chapters are taking a while lately. Sorry about that. We are getting to the end, I promise.

Thanks to Kimmy and Nathan for sharing their expertise of weaponry. What I know about it you could stick on the head of an ant.

Kimmy, Thanks for your sharp eye, fantastic ideas and amazing memory. You contribute so much each and every chapter.

Carol, Thanks for all the expert guidance you've given me, and for treating my words with such meticulous care, always adding the perfect touches to make it come together. Nobody does it better!

Readers, thanks so much for your loyalty, and for sticking with me this long!

**Meg's POV**

My cell phone rang less than a half hour after arriving at Joe's.

"Hi Regan," I greeted my sister in a neutral tone.

I wasn't ready to talk to anyone about the latest mess my life had predictably turned into. She'd been my only family confidante during the aftermath of my relationship with Carlos six years ago and the only one aware of our reconciliation. Happy for me, she was extremely anxious to meet him.

Her exact words had been, 'If you don't bring him here to Boston soon, I'm coming there, and he'd better prepare to be interrogated. My sister deserves the best!'

"Meghan, are you okay? I can't stop thinking about you today, and don't tell me you're fine. I _know_ better!"

"Sorry I'm cluttering your mind," I teased, delaying a straight answer.

"I know you. I can always hear it in your voice, even before I call."

"_Before_ you call?" I laughed, and she did too. Just hearing that familiar lilting chuckle warmed my heart.

"You know what I mean," she insisted.

Her intuitive concern touched me, easily breaking down my defenses.

"Stop bugging your sister, Daniel!" she scolded her twelve-year-old son.

I smiled, because just about every time we spoke by phone, some form of havoc broke out with her kids.

"Sorry," she apologized into the phone. "I swear they have friggin' 'phone radar'. The minute my attention wavers they want it back! Okay, back to you dear sister. Fess up." Her no nonsense determination to get me talking was in full throttle.

Tears welled in my eyes. Regan was sister and best friend rolled into one. I missed her terribly, as I did my entire family. She'd been married eighteen happy years to her high school sweetheart. After a couple of miscarriages, she'd struck gold a few years later with two beautiful, healthy children. I adored and doted on Kelly and Daniel whenever I was home. If anyone understood my maternal longings, it was Regan. She'd generously shared every moment she could of their lives with me, and with her blessing, had become a second mom to them.

"You're right as always," I admitted reluctantly.

"Are you still on the job?"

"Yes, and I can't talk about—"

"I know! Damn, I hate that covert crap. Are you safe?"

"I'm fine—I'm safe," I assured her, because I was.

The Bureau had sent two cars out there—one in the front of Joe's house and one in the back after receiving a call from Mike Nelson, my superior, informing me there'd been a typical FBI communications snafu. Evidently, Carlos had also phoned to report my sudden move, but the call hadn't been passed through the proper channels. As a result, additional cars were sent out that then had to be recalled.

_Had Carlos really thought I was so inept I wouldn't notify them myself?_ I shook off the never-ending frustration when it came to him.

Regan was persistent as ever. "Okay, if it's not the job, then it's the man in your life. He's yet to pass my inspection, you know."

I couldn't tell her that exam was no longer necessary. It barely felt real to me yet.

"Meg—are you crying?"

Stifling my sniffles, I silently swallowed to loosen my tightened throat. "No, don't be silly. Me cry? I think I'm getting a cold."

"You two had a fight."

"No."

_God, I wished it were only that!_

I simply couldn't lie to her.

"We had a break-up. It's over, and _please_ don't ask me what happened. I just—I'd rather talk to you in person. I'm fine. I'm on the tail end of this job, and I'll be home soon."

"Are you sure? Do you want me to come there for a couple of days?"

"No! I couldn't see you if you did."

I wished I _could_ say yes. Seeing her would make everything better.

"You're _not _safe, are you? You don't want me to come, because you're worried I'd be put in danger too."

"Sis, you worry too much. I promise you—we'll talk as soon as I get back. I love you."

"You said you loved Carlos—that you always had. And you said he loves you too. How could that change so fast?"

Regan was a romantic at heart, and I knew her heart had broken a little bit for mine every time I'd suffered losses in the past. No one wanted me to be happy more than she did.

"It's a long story—one that basically hasn't changed. We still love each other."

"Then what's the problem?" she asked, clearly confused.

"I've told you; he's not your typical man. And what we had was tenuous at best. I really don't want to talk about it now."

"Meg—"

"It's been wonderful to hear your voice," I brushed over her. "I love you. Give my love to Thomas, and hug and kiss the kids for me."

"I love you too, Meg. I just wish I was there to hug _you_!"

"You are. Your voice feels like one. Don't worry about me, Re. I'm fine. It's all for the best."

"Uh huh." Obviously she wasn't buying it.

Truthfully, neither was I.

Hanging up the phone, my confused thoughts took over. I almost wished I'd confided more in Regan. She had a natural way of providing clarity—something I was in short supply of with my emotions warring the way they were.

Part of me wanted Carlos to race to my side, break down the door and beg me to come back. The other part knew he'd never change. Reconciling to a life of unending uncertainty and eventual, inevitable pain wasn't an option. It was better this way. I needed to cut it off before it got out of hand.

Oh, whom the hell was I kidding? I wanted to double over; it hurt so damn much!

Waiting for this mission to end would be torture. All I wanted afterward was to go home to my little oasis in Boston, curl up and take the time I needed to regroup and refocus my life.

_Would my heart ever feel whole again?_

**Ranger's POV**

_Goddamn it!_

I hated my empty, seventh floor apartment. _What the hell had gotten into her?_ The only thing keeping me from going to Morelli's house was my pride, along with Stephanie's adamant warning that Meg would be unreceptive to my attitude and unwavering position. Normally, that wouldn't have stopped me, however, nothing had been normal since I'd set eyes on _her_ again.

_Had I truly become toast because of Meg?_

Maybe it was better this way. I'd never intended to allow anyone to change my freewill or me. I wanted to run my life my way. _Why start screwing that up now?_

Adjusting back to life without her was the number one priority.

God, it was too damned quiet!

Striding over to the CD player, I hit play on the Baroque music already loaded in the machine and notched up the volume to blow-out-your-eardrums level.

_There. No more silence!_

I purposefully chose whiskey over the damned brandy I'd shared with _her _every night. Filling a rock glass to the top, I emptied half of it in one long swig, and then refilled it. I planned to have a short-lived relationship with that bottle—shit—maybe a few more after it too.

The reflection of my face in the glass mirror above the bar caught my attention, and I could hardly believe what I saw. I looked lost.

I _had _lost.

Dull, bloodshot eyes taunted back my failure at me.

Hurling the sloshing glass straight into the mirror, I wanted to obliterate the truth of what I'd become. Hearing the crackling sound of shattered glass, I felt something break inside me too.

**Step's** **POV**

"Bob, I don't want you to worry when you hear that I'm dead."

He howled softly and laid his head down on his paws dejectedly.

"I know! But I won't really be dead—so no crying. It's going to suck enough that my parents and Grandma Mazur—"

My breath caught in my throat. _Shit, what if she had a heart attack over it and died?_ I'd feel guilty about it for the rest of my life!

Aloud, I continued, "No, Grandma's a tough old bird. She'd just figure we'd meet again sooner than later—somewhere."

Bob's face tilted. He seemed as dissatisfied as I was with that lame reasoning.

"Don't look at me like that! I know! My poor mother—she'll think everything she's ever feared has come true. And Jeez! Val probably won't even wait till my body is cold to claim all my jewelry and shoes, though since she had her last baby, I doubt she'd get her big toe in them." That last thought made me feel better over my sister's imagined transgression.

"I wonder if people will speak badly of me. You know, they say it's not nice to speak ill of the dead, but I won't be dead, so really they'd just be speaking behind my back. That's normal in the Burg. Right, Bob?"

Bob was so good at agreeing. He knew just how to make me feel better with those loyal, loving brown eyes of his. Another pair of loyal, loving brown eyes came to mind, and with it, an overwhelming longing to see them in person—even if just for a moment.

And I would, as he pulled the trigger to 'kill' me. I'd look into those eyes and convey everything I felt for him in a glimpse. God, I missed him—more like a craving that got stronger by the day.

Rex made an appearance to grab a grape by his soup can. In typical ostrich method, he then disappeared back into his rounded-tin-world.

Sighing, I returned to my conversation with Bob.

"I know it's going to be surreal, and I'm not exactly sure if you and Rex will even be with me afterward—probably not. A dead woman can't exactly take a dog out to pee."

I felt a moment's panic.

"I'm not sure where you're going to go. I'm sorry. Neither of you deserve this. Joe and I will be back. You have to trust that no matter who takes care of you. Maybe it'll be Meg. You like her, right?"

He nodded, and his left ear flopped down sadly.

"Shit, I almost like her too," I admitted begrudgingly.

I had to stop these meandering thoughts and focus on Blutto. I'd barely scrapped the surface of uncovering what Gregor Blutovitch was all about. Born in Bulgaria, he'd sired seven children. _What were the odds all of them had become upstanding citizens?_ Given the statistics from the Morelli family alone, not good. That made me smile. Every family had a black sheep, and I'd be willing to bet Blutto had more than one in his ill-assorted flock.

I figured 'like father like son' applied here and concentrated on the four boys. For now, I'd let the three girls be, but I had NO intention of underestimating the power of women. The entire Blutovitch family would be scrutinized under a microscope. I'd tweeze them painstakingly apart, until I found an answer to control and extinguish Blutto's madness for good.

**Meg's POV**

As I arrived at the downtown hotel and made my way to the conference room we'd reserved, my legs felt weak. I wasn't ready to face Carlos. I was too vulnerable.

I ran into Thomas Griffin at the correct rendezvous point, and it felt strange. I hadn't seen him in a while. Apparently, he'd been called off to do a few other jobs until the action picked up on ours.

"Hi, good to see you back," I offered amicably.

"It's good to be here. Audubon Society?" he asked quizzically, reading the sign that rested on an easel outside the door. "What will they think of next?" He chuckled. "Guess I should've brought my bird-watching binoculars."

I gave him a sardonic grin. "Lane James must be at it again. Serving as meeting coordinator for twenty years with the FBI _has _to have given him a strange sense of humor by now."

"He missed his calling," Thomas jokingly agreed. "He should have been a party planner instead."

Griffin opened the door for me to enter the sterile, blandly decorated room. Lord knows I could've been in any city, anywhere. No matter the mission, they all melted into the same damned scenario. New players perhaps, but the song and dance never changed all that much.

Taking a deep breath, I reassured myself for the hundredth time. I just had to get through one meeting—an hour tops. I'd co-exist in the same room with Carlos by simply focusing on the work.

I'd only been gone two days and had survived both by living one minute at a time. I missed the ignorant and emotionally challenged idiot more than I knew was possible.

_Had he allowed himself to miss me at all?_

The conference room held Chief Michaels, Eddie Gazarra and Griffin, along with two more suits who'd be utilized when the end game was at hand—closers—which was good. It meant we were close to the final act. Soon I'd be able to escape this place and all the damned memories forever.

Extending my obligatory greetings, I mustered a reasonably friendly smile and braced my shoulders before taking a chair. I could do this. My clammy fingers played with the edge of the red folder in front of me, and I forced my accelerated heart rate to slacken back to normal.

Carlos would be livid over the fact I'd left him.

I didn't even have to look up to know he'd entered the room. His presence could be felt. His eyes zeroed in on me, and it took everything in my power not to lift my head and drown in them.

Taking a chair directly across from me, I caught a whiff of his Prada shower gel. He hadn't switched back to the Bulgari.

_Shit! _

Turning my head away, I gave my full attention to Captain Michaels, as he opened his agenda-filled file and called the meeting to order, which silenced the chatter.

"As you know, it was deemed prudent to conduct our meeting away from public scrutiny of the precinct in a more clandestine location. After the leak we've already experienced, we want no further missteps on this endeavor."

He cleared his throat.

"For all of you Audubon enthusiasts, we'll do a quick run over our _bird_ watching strategy."

Everyone in attendance opened his or her folders in perfect synchronicity.

"Eagle is waiting for further commands from Vulture, but he has had—" Michaels looked pointedly in Carlos' direction. "Some type of intel that may or may not be a reliable tip. Going with that since it's the only lead we have, it appears hunting season begins this weekend."

My mind was still trying to wrap around the twist this mission had taken. None of us could've foreseen how impossible totally protecting Stephanie would become.

Michaels cleared his throat again and continued.

"We are making sure to get word out that the Hummingbird will be back in her nest by late Saturday afternoon. Sightings of bird-watchers have been detected sporadically in her neighborhood. No doubt the Vulture is anxious for her return. When the Hummingbird flies in, we want there to be no question she is in full occupation."

"The Eagle will be free to swoop in and take out Hummingbird. Manoso and his men will take care of creating a diversion to detour Eagle's assigned wingman, while said Eagle is taking his prey. Afterward, Hummingbird's carcass will be transported to the designated spot. Public knowledge of her permanent departure will reach the airwaves, and we will have accomplished successful initiation for Eagle. As you know, this is a Category Five event. You all have your assignments. Are there any questions?"

I wanted to ask if we could all turn back and pretend this wasn't happening. Normally, I got through my undercover work with complete detachment. I'd never gone soft on the job. Having a personal connection to everyone involved on this assignment qualified it as the hardest assignment I'd ever undertaken.

Everyone shook his or her heads silently.

"Good. Manoso would you like to add anything."

Turning my eyes in his direction, my stomach did a skittering roll. It would be impossible for me to avoid him any longer.

His gaze captured mine. He'd been waiting for me to surrender to the inevitable.

Seeing a spark of triumph in them pissed me off, and I immediately hardened my expression, hoping he'd feel the contemptuous daggers being sent in his direction.

He talked as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And yet, all the while, he trained those ebony eyes on me.

_Why the hell didn't he look away?_ He should be perusing the whole table—not just me.

"In conclusion, my men will be on hand to guard the nest, ensuring no one else has further access after her migration. Of course it will be partitioned off as a crime scene. Our presence will be quite natural as Rangeman looks out for Hummingbird often. We'd be expected to fully cooperate and participate in the investigation of her untimely death. Location of our departed bird will be known only to myself and a select few that have clearance."

Ranger nodded, giving the floor over to Agent Griffin before fixing his stare back upon me. I no longer saw anything in his eyes—no love—no softness. They were cold, calculating and darkened nearly to black. After the intimacy we'd shared, it felt bizarre to have him a stranger once again.

_By God, if he could regress that far so quickly, then so could I!_

Griffin's voice droned on, but I could no longer focus on his unimportant, statistical information.

Michael's finally took the lead again.

"As you all know, Commissioner Brooks is no longer a part of our team. He has opted for early retirement." Taking a sip of his coffee, he allowed his news to penetrate.

There was an uncomfortable silence filled with a mutual sadness. Someone who'd served so long and with a previously spotless record had been forced to vacate his position to avoid total disgrace. No doubt, the effects of the damned operation were going to be far-reaching and long lasting.

Michaels interrupted the palpable tension he'd created by adding more.

"There is another urgent matter that has come to our attention. As you've been informed, a serious chance of a mutiny may lie ahead. Many other J-birds are thinking of flying the coop, although no definite date for flight has been established at this time. Arrangements have been made however to keep caged species under control."

I felt the urgency of this even more than Joe's plight this weekend. The air became thicker as Michaels proceeded to outline our strategy.

"Having no target date doesn't mean we won't be prepared. It could be as soon as next week or months away. Chances are good however it will follow closely after this weekend's migration. All eyes need to be ready to spot the flock. We need to see to it all goes exactly as we want it to. Order must be preserved in a controlled and methodical manner. We must be prepared to have our eyes gouged out by their claws, but take the defensive stances necessary to insure the Apiary stays full and with minimal bird chasing required."

Michaels' eyes were twitching with the effort of keeping his conversation coded. The idea it was merely a harmless discussion on bird watching was ludicrous compared to the actual gravity of the violent insurgence being planned by notorious and dangerous criminals. There was nothing humorous about the mess. If everyone got out of it alive, it'd be a miracle.

"And I don't have to tell you the goal is _zero_ casualties—both in _and _outside the zones of observation."

He encompassed the room with one more threatening stare, and the meeting was dismissed.

The room emptied fast. Thank God Carlos hadn't hesitated to bolt from his chair. He was probably well on his way to wherever the day's business would take him.

Making my way out the door, my arm was yanked hard, and I was propelled into an empty suite across the hall.

Carlos' stanch control had slipped. Black fire shot from his eyes.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I hissed through gritted teeth.

"Getting answers!" he informed me, nearly growling.

"The hell you are. I have to go—my detail is waiting to escort me home."

"Not anymore—I'll be taking you," he dictated decisively. "And that isn't your home. Your home is with me."

"Not anymore," I echoed his words harshly.

"You had no right to take off without a word."

_Courage, Meg!_

I hated being confronted like this. His proximity was hypnotizing, and I wasn't sure I'd stay strong. There was no option, however—I had to.

Squaring my shoulders, I launched right back at him, pointing my finger hard into his chest. Too bad all I really wanted to do was sink into his arms.

"You're planning to go to one of the most dangerous places in the world to chase after a rabid, murderous lunatic without looking back! No matter what I say, you're going to do as you damn well please. Fine—but I'll do what I please too!"

I headed for the door, and his arm swung out and grabbed mine, spinning me back toward him.

He propelled me none too gently to the couch. "You're going to sit down, and we're going to talk."

_I needed to stop this once and for all._

Immediately standing, my eyes dared him to try anything physical with me again.

"I told you; I can't do it, Carlos. I'm done. I left, and I'm not coming back."

"It's that easy to turn your back on me?"

"You'd know about that wouldn't you?" I rebutted derisively.

"I haven't turned my back on you!"

Our mutual anger quickly escalated.

"You most certainly _have_." I allowed him to see my inner struggle. "I love you. I always have and always will."

"Bull. If that were trued, you'd be sticking—not running."

**Ranger's POV**

She laughed in my face, and I ran my hand behind my neck, wishing I had a punching bag.

"I wasn't running. I'm going to come back!" I barked gruffly, heading to her side.

"Uh-huh—until you choose to leave again!" She stepped back, quickly putting distance between us.

"My God! You are one stubborn pigheaded—"

"Are you _really_ going to go there?" she asked facetiously. One eyebrow cocked defiantly.

"Yes."

This was far from over.

"I wish things could be different for us, Carlos. You know you're the only man I want."

"Correction. You want to _change_ me into the only man you want."

She blew out pent-up frustration. "Your going to Somalia isn't the only issue."

"What else?" I asked searching my head for other infractions I wasn't aware of.

"The truth—the _reason_ you need to keep paying it all back."

He looked at me suspiciously. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Are you ever going to trust me—us—enough to tell me what possesses you, so you can truly heal and move forward?"

My blood went cold. I'd made a vow no one close to me would ever know the truth. I wasn't going to burden anyone—not my family, friends—and especially not the woman who had dared to get close to me. _I'd_ made the mistake. It was my duty to suffer the consequences in silence.

"There's nothing to tell."

She shook her head disgustedly. "You're even lying to yourself."

"I'm not lying."

"Omission—it's the same thing."

"I don't think rehashing my past is going to miraculously erase it. If _you_ do, then you're sadly mistaken. I thought you were at peace with me not telling you my entire life story."

"I thought I was too, but I realize now that without knowing it, I'll never have all of you."

"Bullshit—you already do now."

"No, I don't. In fact, _YOU_ don't even have all of you Carlos. A piece of you has been missing since whatever it was happened." Her eyes pled with mine. "Tell me. Trust me enough to let me in!"

Oddly enough, her desperation to know only held me back further. Once I told her she'd know I wasn't even close to the man she thought I was, and it would stop whatever she felt for me—cold.

"Believe me, Meg, you're in. You've _been_ in. And I don't need to spill my guts. I've been to confession. I'm absolved. Just ask any priest, and he'll tell you." I scoffed. "Hell, I did my Act of Contrition. I said my Hail Mary's. I'm back to being as white as snow. There's nothing left to tell!"

She was unimpressed with my melodramatic outburst. "You haven't forgiven yourself."

Anger was seething inside me just under the surface. My cool facade had been such an act. Even I was becoming weary of it.

"No! I'm never going to, and neither you nor all that Catholic rhetoric and ritual is going to change that."

I'd reached my boiling point. I was done.

Glaring at her, I snarled in a low voice, "You know what? You're right. Let's forget what we had. You'll be better off, and so will I."

**Meg's POV**

"You really believe that?"

My heart always broke at the shadows in his eyes—the stranglehold of his past he couldn't ever release.

Ranger was filled with quiet rage. He could fool everyone else with his stoic performance, but I knew better. His silence gave me the opening to press on.

"I can't deal with more pain. Not from you," I confessed, allowing him to see the hurt briefly.

"I never intended to hurt you." His voice was deceptively calm.

"I believe you wouldn't knowingly, but you are right now." Looking into his eyes, I hoped jarring his memory might awaken him. "You knelt on that kitchen floor at the apartment. You said you needed me and wanted a life with me—knowing _exactly _what that meant. You _promised _me Carlos, and already you've gone back on your word."

"I've given you everything I promised. I asked for ONE trip away, and you're calling it quits?"

Standing by the windows, I folded my arms defensively. "I was hoping you'd choose a life with me. But I'm accepting you can't give up who you are—who you've always been and always _will_ be. You hold onto it like a martyr. Unfortunately, I don't want to be martyred with you."

"Funny, that's exactly the word I'd use to describe you," he countered coldly.

"Explain that!" White-hot anger shot through me. _How dare he accuse me of his own foolishness?_

"You and your sanctimonious attitude—you're wearing it like sack cloth and ashes, pretending it's _your _big sacrifice to give me up, so I'll be free to do as I please."

"That isn't true. You're allowed to be who you need to be." I shook my head sadly. "I can't, nor would I _ever_ want to change you. The problem is you don't trust me enough. If you can't tell me what's in your heart, and I mean the darkest recesses of it, then what do we have?"

His eyes bored into mine. "I've shared more with you than anyone, and see where it's gotten us?"

"You haven't, Carlos. You know _everything _about me—all my sorrows, my losses, every one of my mistakes and numerous faults. And yet, you say you love me."

"I do, damn it."

"Then why won't you trust me to love _you_ unconditionally in return?" My eyes implored him to let go. If he could do that, then maybe I could trust a life with him.

"It's not the same thing. Your losses were different. You weren't to blame."

I offered him one last chance. "There's nothing you can't share with me, even the blame."

He stared at me for a long time, the struggle warring inside him clearly evident. Then his eyes diverted from mine, and I knew the possibility of that moment passed, causing me to swallow back hard, biting tears.

"I thought I could deal with it, but doing so would mean constant turmoil. I'd never be allowed to totally know or understand you. You'd continue on with this endless vendetta—against yourself more than anyone else. I'd be locked out and always held at a distance. It would be like having to face my past losses eternally, knowing there was another loss dead ahead. I couldn't survive losing you like that."

"You're asking for more than I can give you," he said flatly. "There's no choice in this. Why can't you see that?"

"You might not think _you_ have a choice—but _I_ do. I've given this everything I have. I can't stay here and watch you self destru—"

"Fine. You want out? You're out!" Closing down completely, his voice exuded hate—the last thing I'd ever wanted from him.

"You idiot! I just told you I wanted in, yet you refuse to see the truth."

"You're not thinking straight, _and_ you're being irrational."

"Y_ou're_ the one being blind and stubborn. I'm not asking for anything more than I've given to you," I persisted.

"You're thinking isn't logical," he pushed back stubbornly.

"Oh no, Mr. Spock? What a shock. This reasoning is coming from my _emotions._ You should try it some time!"

"Emotions have never gotten me anywhere."

"Of course not. Then you'd have to admit you're an actual human that makes mistakes."

"Maybe my biggest mistake was letting myself love you at all."

His words cut through me like jagged ice. No longer able to hide the pain, my mouth fell open.

Two strides, and he was by my side, his face regretful. "You know I didn't mean it, Cobre. It slipped out in anger. You drive me mad, but I wouldn't ever hurt you."

"Your anger and your silences will kill our love and destroy us." I shook my head no and held up my hand indicating my final decision.

His voice became frigid again. "You're over-reacting."

"No. I think I'm right on target. _You_ certainly were—bulls-eye!"

"I lashed out," he explained again needlessly. There'd be plenty more lashing coming from both sides if we tried to salvage this convoluted mess.

"I'm angry too, and I never wanted this to happen. I'm afraid the love we have will turn into hate. That's the last thing I want."

Swiping my hand through my wavy hair, I spoke so softly; he had to strain to hear me.

"It's time to stop. We both have serious business ahead that demands our full attention. I'm looking forward to it. It's bound to be a good distract—"

**Ranger's POV**

"Stop this ridiculous talk!" I commanded, not liking my loss of control.

"It isn't ridiculous. I've told you the only thing I need is you. Are you willing to give me yourself completely?"

"I've given you as much as I can give anyone."

"You _think _you have."

"This is getting us nowhere!"

"Exactly," she huffed. Her eyes shadowed, and she turned away to get composure, and then turned back toward me. "I want you to do one last thing for me."

"What is that?"

Her lips trembled slightly. "Never call me—never write to me—never contact me again in any way. Let me go, Carlos, and I'll let you go too." Seeing the look on my face, she hastily added, "I say that with _love—_not hate. I want to end with love between us. It's time."

I felt like I'd been stabbed in the gut repeatedly. Anger rose in my throat. I wanted to yell at her and tell her she was cutting me into pieces.

I could tell her.

I could give her what she wanted, but I'd lose her just the same. _Why the hell couldn't she just love me without demanding more than I was able to offer?_

I'd never let her see the power she had over me.

"Is this really what you want?" I choked through the ire clogging my throat.

"Yes," she whispered hoarsely. "My wish for you is to find peace someday, Carlos."

"I hope you have success in the life you seek."

It sounded like a business letter dictation. Formal, curt and emotionless—just exactly how I'd behaved when we'd first met.

"I'll call your detail to pick you up."

I left her, walking out blindly, unable to control the fury that'd been set off inside me. I couldn't trust what I'd do if I stayed, and I didn't want her to walk out first leaving me there alone.

**Steph's POV**

Three consecutive raps on the door, and I knew Ranger was on the other side.

_Thank God. _I think even Bob was tired of my endless ramblings.

"Hi there," I smiled invitingly upon opening the door.

His silence was deafening. And I'd just promised myself to stop borrowing trouble, knowing I had plenty of my own. Guess I'd be starting that 'no borrowing thing' tomorrow.

"Talk," I ordered, propelling him to the winged chair and taking a seat on the couch.

"I'm here to let you know we're pretty sure it'll be this Saturday. Everything is a go on our end. I've arranged to have Morelli wired."

"What if they search him?"

"It's state of the art, new technology. They won't find it."

"Where is it concealed?" I asked, my curiosity more than ignited

"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," he wisecracked. The words were there, but his eyes looked emotionally dead.

I cocked an eyebrow and folded my arms.

"He'll be able to speak but hear no one, allowing him to tip us off as soon as he's given the weapon for the job. My men will get a similar weapon to you filled with blanks. Morelli will shoot the entire magazine into you. My guess is it will have a silencer—"

He noticed my sickened expression.

"It's a lot to take in." He gave me the moment I needed. Once he saw I was in control, he continued, "He'll be taking that gun with him when he leaves."

"So what he returns to Blutto's man will appear to be the original weapon?"

"Yes—we're not worried about serial numbers. It's very likely whatever gun Morelli is handed will be unidentifiable as will the one we replace it with."

"That's good. All the bases are covered then. Nothing can look suspicious. He'd be killed on the spot." My gut twisted painfully at the thought.

"No worries. We know what we're doing."

"I know. Go on."

"As we discussed before, there will be a manufactured distraction outside your apartment. It won't arouse suspicion for the tenants, but more than likely will spook whomever is assigned to accompany him for the hit."

"At least we know there won't be a lot of tenants running around in a panic and endangering everyone even more." I blew out the tension tightening my whole body.

Saturdays were reserved for the 'early bird' special at the senior center followed by a rousing night of Bingo.

"It was a good idea to send them all those coupons."

"Trust me—none of them will let a one-date only, freebee go to waste."

Ranger smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "It's all going to go fine, Stephanie."

He was right. I'd been around Ranger and his men long enough to know they were the best.

"You and Morelli will have heated words. There'll be a struggle between you; you'll kick his gun away, grab your weapon and struggle over YOUR gun."

"What happens after it goes off?"

He allowed a slight smirk. "You'll give a Merle Streep worthy performance for your death scene. But don't overdo it. We'll know what is transpiring by Morelli's wire. Then sirens will go off in the distance. Of course Morelli will act agitated and force his associate into a sudden panicked departure. We'll come in and take you to a safe destination where you'll remain until this is over."

He took a deep breath, as though he'd left something crucial out.

"What aren't you telling me, Ranger?"

"Nothing."

"Oh no, you don't! You won't get away with that. You _know_ something."

"I didn't want to alarm you."

"Morelli is about to be released from prison in order to terminate me. The danger and risk is growing for him daily. What else could possibly alarm me?"

He hesitated.

"Joe promised nothing would be held back," I reminded him. "I'm part of this investigation."

"They found smuggled gun parts in food deliveries to the prison, and this week we found the same in commissary deliveries as well."

My mouth dropped open as the implications of this filtered through my brain. My eyeballs just about popped out of my head. "Holy Moly!"

"Yeah."

"What the hell—first the phones and now guns! What the heck are the prisons for? Supplying criminals so they aren't forced into early retirement?"

"We suspect a prison breakout is being planned."

"This weekend?" _How in the heck would we pull this off while that was going on too?_

"No, I don't think so. It could be anytime, but I'm guessing it won't be long."

"My God—what are the chances everyone will be alive when this is over?"

"We're going to beat them at their own game. We've got the inside track. They won't pull it off, at least not anymore than we allow them to."

"Joe will be safe." I tried to tell myself more than ask the question. "Tank, Hector and Cal too."

"That's the plan," he agreed. "FBI is all over this. If we have to bring in the National Guard and backup police from surrounding states, so be it. I think they'd even bring full military units to contain the damage if it comes to that."

I tried to breathe and control the fear creeping like twisted tentacles into my stomach. He probably sensed it.

"On a more positive note, those legal documents and your hunches about them were dead on."

"They were?" I found a reason to smile. "Really?"

"Yes. The discrepancies found in the case numbers and distorted Latin wording were clues that directly corresponded to location, dates and exact times crimes were committed in the past. We can't tip our hand just yet. For now, it's being monitored closely. Soon Dickie Orr's entire law firm, as well as a few others, will be shut down for good. Not to mention the criminal charges facing them. You did good, Stephanie."

"Wow."

I let it sink in. I hadn't gone after Dickie specifically, but it surprised me I wasn't happier about seeing him pay for his greedy, lawless behavior. There was a time I'd have paid for a ringside seat to see him fry.

Ranger's voice shot me out of my reflective moment. "Back to Saturday. You need to know we're expecting Morelli to be summoned by Blutto soon. And you'll be 'flying' in from Miami early Saturday afternoon. We made sure to leak that information to known informants in Blutto's circle."

"Okay, at least it's coming to a head. That's good right?"

"It'll be over before you know it."

Suddenly, I remembered I had things to tell him too.

"I've delved deeper into Blutto's life. He has four sons. Two are back in Bulgaria. One is supposed to be in South America, and one—the oldest—was last seen in California six months ago. His name is Petko B. Mitkova."

"Why Mitkova? Why not Blutovitch?" he asked curiously.

I opened my mouth to answer but stopped midway. There was something downright disturbing about the deadened look in Ranger's eyes. Clearly, something was eating at him.

"Uh—I'm working on it," I explained. "It's his mother's maiden name. What else is happening? Did you get to talk to Meg yet?"

"No comment."

"What? Do I look like a rabid reporter or something? It's me, and I always get three questions at least."

We'd played this game plenty ever since we'd met. I could usually stick in a few more inquiries if I went about it sneakily enough.

"Not this time," Ranger said, getting to his feet.

"You're not leaving here until you talk, Ranger. No more of this silent bullshit!" I wasn't even sure what was propelling me to force the issue, but my Spidey senses told me he needed a friend.

"Sit!" I pointed toward the chair he'd just vacated. Bob thought I was talking to him and rolled over obediently.

To my shock, Ranger did as ordered as well.

"Is this about you and Meg?"

The slight blink of his eyes indicated 'yes'.

"You weren't able to fix it?"

An almost imperceptible motion to the left then the right told me no.

"You will though, right?"

"No."

He was even more closed off and unreachable than when I'd first met him, and I tried to fight the natural intimidation I'd always struggled with in his presence.

"But—uh—you have to. You—uh—you love her, right?"

"That's four questions," he said, dodging as only he could.

"You can't count the food question, and I get more. You owe me."

"How the hell do you figure that?"

"I—I don't know. Uh—because we're friends?"

"Are we?"

_Uh oh—tread carefully, Stephanie. He's totally pissed. Pushing his buttons could get you evicted to the street—stalker or no stalker—Blutto or no Blutto. _

"Did you try to talk? You know, with actual communication?"

He gave me an impatient look.

"Did you at least tell her you loved her?"

He emitted a deep, guttural growl. He was going to bolt I could feel it.

"Ranger, if you love her—well, you know, love isn't easy to come by," I fumbled desperately. God, if only communication had been an attribute of my family growing up. "Finding the one that, you know, is right—like I've found with Joe—"

Eyes flashing, Ranger was on his feet and out the door before I could finish bungling my attempt to encourage him.

Good thing he had a friend like me. I'd been a lot of help.

Jeez.

Joe's POV

The command from Blutto came per usual—silently and forcefully by his over-bribed and well-pocketed guards.

Same place different agenda.

He was there ahead of me this time.

Sitting down across from him as instructed, I took in his ghastly appearance. He looked more yellow skinned than before, with angry blotches of purplish-red tinges to his neck and cheeks. Wasn't healthy-looking, that was for sure.

"Morelli, we have vord—Stephanie vill return Saturday."

"Oh yeah? From where?" I asked, feigning lazy curiosity.

"Miami," he grunted. "Seems she was off vith her boss on business." His snake-like expression told me he was baiting me.

I growled. "I'll bet she was! Business my ass!"

"Vell you vill happily know ve vill proceed vith your initiation zhat night."

"Yeah? Fast. What's the plan?" I leaned forward, showing my deep interest.

"Ve have all the dot's and T's. You no worry."

"How you getting me out of here?"

"Right under de noses. You vill see."

"What kind of weapon am I being given?"

"Vill be provided, and Morelli? You vill have company—no going alone. Trust earned."

"Fine. I hope whomever it is has some balls. I don't need a lily-livered—"

He laughed then, thinking it was uproariously funny.

"You think Blutto hire no balled men?"

"Well, no. I—"

"Shut up, Morelli, before I crush dose sorry excuses of yours."

"Hey, it's my skin on the line! I have a right to make sure this isn't some kind of set up. How do I know you're not going to tip off the cops and pull a fast one on me?"

He let out a loud guffaw. "You don't! You need to keep mouth shut and follow orders. I pull your strings—you vill dance."

_Oh yeah, I'll dance all right, Jackass—at your funeral!_

"Be ready to leave, moments request."

"Fine."

"That all," he said, hitting his cane hard on the floor.

"Don't you think it would be wise to tell me how the hell I'm getting out of here and when I'm coming back?"

"You leave end of day Saturday—front door. You come back Sunday morning same vay. All you need know!" he grumbled.

My eyes widened in admiring surprise. "Front door? You _are_ good."

"I'm Best. Remember no von screws Blutto!"

"If you can get me past all the security and in and out of here, I may just believe you, but if anything goes wrong and I get caught, you're going down with me!" I shook a finger at his swollen face.

"Vahts the matter, Morelli—you don't trust me? I'm hurt—vounded mortally." He laid a hand over his massive carcass where his heart was supposed to be, snapped his fingers, and in seconds, I was escorted back to my cell.

Soon I'd see my Cupcake, although not the reunion I'd been dreaming of at all.

I took out the latest letter from my 'wife' and read it again. It was short and sweet.

Joe,

_Marrying you was the smartest thing I've ever done. Even after that awesome conjugal visit we had in my dreams—it feels like it's been years since I've seen you. I miss you so much. See what being with you does to me? My libido has libido. I'm dying for you here. I hope I have another dream soon. I'd treasure more of those fantasy moments with you and me against a wall or two._

Every time I read that I smiled. It meant Meg had told her all about our embarrassing role-play, and Stephanie had taken it with her usual wry, dry sense of humor.

God I loved her!

_I am with you no matter what we do, or where we are. I'll stand beside you and have your back, as I know you'll have mine. In good times and in bad, in sickness and health, though don't count on me holding your head when you throw up. I know—always the hypocrite! But I WILL make you soup—yes from a can, and probably I could be persuaded to give you back rubs. Maybe I'll even bring you cold cloths for that beautiful head of yours. Heck, I'm going to need a cold shower soon just thinking about touching you. _

_Okay, big guy—I'm here waiting until you come home. And everything you conveyed to me in your letter goes double and triple and a hundred times for me. You're the best man I'll ever know. Yes, that includes biblically too. Jeez, get your mind out of the gutter, Morelli!_

_I'll love you till after my death and then some._

_Kate. _

That last line was to let me know she understood and was ready for what was ahead. Good girl! I'd always admired her strength and tenacity.

I pictured her face, her many faceted expressions and those gorgeous blue eyes. My thoughts travelled down the familiar and voraciously loved body. I'd memorized every curve, every nuance. I knew where her birthmark was, where her freckles sprinkled and gathered, and how incredibly soft and delectable she was. And God, if she wanted and missed me, it wasn't half as much as I needed and wanted her.

Soon Cupcake—very soon.

**Steph's POV**

Summoning Ranger back to my apartment, I promised it would be all business related. He'd reluctantly agreed.

We were both on edge. By that afternoon, I'd be making my 'flight' back into Trenton. I didn't want to wait to inform him of my latest findings, because if something went wrong he needed to have them.

"I apologize if I over-stepped the other night."

His reply was curt. "I thought this was business."

"It is, but I feel bad for trying to go all Dr. Phil on you. Forgive me?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No."

His eyes softened slightly, and I knew we were okay.

"I checked on all the Bluttovitchs. I found pictures of every member but the oldest son, Petko B. Mitkova. I couldn't find what the middle initial stood for. Perhaps he uses Bluttovitch as a hyphenated name at times. Or it could be another name entirely. He was last sighted in California. Spent some time in the south over a year ago. It's all sketchy and unsubstantiated information."

"What about the other siblings?" he asked.

"None of them reside or have recently been in the USA. When they were, it was for short visits. It would be pretty hard to use them against him—NOT that they were all squeaky clean or anything."

"Shocker," Ranger drawled.

"Except Petko—he's as clean as my mother's floors. Not one infraction. Not even a traffic ticket."

"Do tell."

"Someone's been wiping the slate clean. No one is that good, especially if they have Blutto's genes. His mother could be a saint, and he'd still have a dark side."

"I'm sure you're right, Stephanie. Good work."

"I'm not done. Promise wherever I'm going; I get to continue with this research. I'll climb the walls without anyone else to talk to. Maybe I should take Rex."

"It's better if you don't. And I promise all your equipment and files will be there for you Ba—damn it— Stephanie," he corrected, his voice lowering.

"It's okay. I know it's a hard to break a habit."

"Tell me about it."

He wasn't thinking of me. When Joe and I were back together, we'd figure out a way to return the 'safe house' time Meg and Ranger had given us. After all, it'd worked like a charm for us. If I had anything to say about it, the two of them would still be together.

A couple hours later, I was shaved, washed, and had arranged my hair the way Joe loved it best—wild, sexy curls. If Joe was only to have one glimpse, I wanted him to get an eye full. Hopefully it wouldn't have to last him a long time.

Saying goodbye to Bob and Rex was the pits. Thinking about my family and friends having to hear of my death in a few hours was even worse.

Everything went like clockwork at the airport. It hadn't hurt to have the FBI sneak me onto the plane through the luggage compartment. They monitored everything occurring behind the scenes. I even had a bag to pick up at the claims carousel.

A couple of Ranger's men escorted me home. As good as it felt to be there, I wasn't able to fully enjoy it.

Waiting for Joe and hopefully only one other man, I knew things could go wrong if Blutto chose to send a complete entourage. It was unlikely though. Their plan was to get in, get the job done and get out. More participants would only slow them down.

I was a little nauseated and crazily excited too knowing Joe and I would be within touching distance. Maybe his hand would brush mine, or I'd fall against his body in the struggle with the gun. God! NOT continuing to touch him would be the hardest thing.

I wasn't worried about myself. But the idea of Joe being smuggled out of prison raised the hairs on the back of my neck. _What if something went wrong there, and he was caught as a phony? What if someone fired a gun to stop him? _

_What if—what if I stopped imagining the worst and hoped for the best._

Joe's POV

My lookalike replacement 'guard' showed up in my cell close to the ending of his shift. He directed me to switch clothing and instructed me to say nothing, as I went out through security. The FBI's ability to ensure my safe departure from prison was the least of my worries. The phony Morelli instructed me to look for a black sedan. He settled into my bunk like it was old home week. Everything remotely personal had been removed from my cell prior to his occupancy. I wondered for the zillionth time how many of these overnight escapes had been pulled off right under the noses of prison personnel.

The black sedan arrived, and the driver thumbed me toward the back. Getting in quickly, I was whisked away, heading toward an apparently pre-appointed pit stop. A man dressed head to toe in black and sporting a knitted ski mask slid into the back seat of the car holding a black briefcase.

"Morelli?"

I nodded. He signaled the driver to take off and proceeded to open the black case presenting it to me.

"Whoa, you don't see this everyday—a Makarov with a silencer. These are manufactured in Russia, right?"

"No, idiot—Bulgaria."

"Oh yeah, Bulgaria. I guess you're right. I get those places over there all mixed up."

The eyes gazing at me through the mask were dark, calculating and cold.

"Did the sitting duck arrive as scheduled?" I asked, playing it very cool right back.

"Everything necessary is in place."

"Good."

"Here's your mask." He handed me one identical to his.

I laughed. "It won't do any good. She'll know it's me—my voice," I explained, wishing I could pull off his mask and see who that jackass was.

"You need to wear it going in. I don't care what you do once we get into the apartment."

"No sweat," I agreed amicably.

"Word is you had a relationship with the soon to be deceased."

I didn't recognize his voice and noted he was about average weight and height—brown eyes and probably dark hair.

"Ancient history," I retorted, staring out the window at the passing scenery.

"I'd have a problem killing a former lover."

"Even if she cheated—repeatedly?" I challenged, turning to show him both contempt and fury toward my intended victim.

"Ah, well that might change things," he agreed, while offering me a silver flask from his pocket.

"No thanks. I prefer a clear head."

"This should go off without a hitch. She's going to be taken by surprise. You have that in your favor. Don't think I won't be watching your every move. Blutto doesn't exactly consider you trustworthy."

"How long have you been working under him as a lackey," I asked, heavy on the Jersey attitude.

"I'm no one's lackey, and I don't work under anyone!" Ego threaded through his words.

"Do you know her?" I asked. _Just what was his connection to Blutto? What did he know about his Stephanie obsession?_

"Not personally, but her reputation is legendary. Were you ever on the scene as a cop when her cars blew up? That would've been fun to watch."

I snorted. "Too many times."

"I heard she's a danger to herself and everyone around her and quite the little slut. You've confirmed that. She seems like the type that doesn't scare easily. That's the kind of woman I'd enjoy making whimper." He laughed wickedly. "I sure wouldn't have minded getting a piece of her first." He hit my arm like a long lost pal.

My fist opposite him clenched involuntarily, and I forced myself to relax.

"She's one for the books all right."

"You'll be doing her and the world a favor tonight."

I laughed mechanically, thinking how very much I'd like to do him a favor instead.

Steph's POV

I heard the elevator, but something told me Joe and his henchman would take the stairs. The chances of running into any geriatric neighbors would be slim to none there. As I'd hoped, several cars loaded to the gills with my apartment building cohorts, had departed just in time for those early bird specials, which made me breathe a little easier.

I had an earpiece Rangeman had outfitted me with and was ordered to remove the second we knew they'd arrived. It was designed to give me a heads up. Needing that little moment to steel my wayward nerves, I was grateful. I hoped we'd thought of everything. Not one minute detail could be off.

"They just arrived, Steph—both wearing masks," Hal informed me from whenever they'd chosen to stake this thing out.

I felt sorely disappointed. I'd wanted to see his beautiful face—not only those chocolaty eyes. I'd hidden the identical weapon to Joe's filled with blanks. It'd been brought to me shortly after the information was intercepted. It was still ensconced safely between the middle cushions on the sofa.

My heart was beating a million miles a minute. We'd decided it would be best for me to have my coat on as if I was going out. That way the Kevlar vest loaded with blood packets wouldn't have a chance of being easily spotted. Strangely, I couldn't help but wonder if I'd be able to get the phony bloodstains out of my beautiful new area rug.

The squeaky stair door swung open, and footsteps moved on the old worn out wooden hallway floors. I was at the entrance with my fingers latched around the knob when I heard Joe's voice say 'this one'. It was my signal to open it.

Doing so, I spied two masked men in front of me.

My mouth dropped open in faked shock. Seeing him again—finally—my mouth did it naturally. Oh my God! I felt the instant energy that always zinged between us back in full force. Mask or not, separated for ages or for short intervals—no matter what, it was always there.

Joe.

He was so close; I could touch him.

It was all I could do not to tear up. My hands ached to reach out, pull him into my arms and kiss him senseless. I forced my arms to remain stiff at my sides, even while I envisioned them wrapped around him.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, Ms. Plum?" The voice behind Joe jumped out at me warningly.

"Who are you?" I let my tone wobble the right amount to show fear. "What do you want?"

Joe pushed me back into the apartment. His sidekick followed, closing and locking the door.

Even though I knew it wasn't really happening, it felt a little _too_ real.

"I'm sorry, Stephanie." Joe took off his mask.

_Thank God! I could see him. I missed that face. Looking at him gave me more satisfaction than all the cake on the entire planet ever could. _

"You're not going anywhere ever again," Joe threatened menacingly.

I so dearly wanted to say the same to him.

"Joe Morelli? What are you doing here?" I backed away as if terrified. "You're supposed to be in prison!"

"He's here to kill you!" The masked stranger growled out. "So shut the hell up and get ready to die, bitch!"


	42. Chapter 42

No profit. Not my characters.

Wow, I know it's been few and far between with the chapters lately and I am sorry. I want to turn out the best work I can, and for this end part it's taking me longer to get chapters completed as all the answers come together and the big Finale is fast approaching. I will try not to keep you waiting so long for the next one. Thanks everyone who has sent me messages requesting a new chapter. You were the kick in the butt I needed to finally get it done.

Thanks a zillion to Carol and Kimmy. You are both the most patient, supportive and generous beta's ever! I know how lucky I am to have you in my corner. Carol as always you sculpture the words and mold my chapters with unique expertise that leaves me constantly in awe.

I also want to give a shout out to all the cupcake writers! We need more Cupcake stories on FFN. There's been such a dry spell lately. Please write. I love reading them as much as writing them.

Thanks to all the readers who have added my story to their favorite lists and been the ultimate in support and loyalty since day one.

Recap from Chapter 41

"I'm sorry, Stephanie." Joe took off his mask.

_Thank God! I could see him. I missed that face. Looking at him gave me more satisfaction than all the cake on the entire planet ever could. _

"You're not going anywhere ever again," Joe threatened menacingly.

I so dearly wanted to say the same to him.

"Joe Morelli? What are you doing here?" I backed away as if terrified. "You're supposed to be in prison!"

"He's here to kill you!" The masked stranger growled out. "So shut the hell up and get ready to die, bitch!"

**Chapter 42**

**Steph's POV**

Instantly paralyzed by Joe's unknown companion, his eyes shining wildly out of the mask, sent chills through me. For a moment, everything in the present faded, and I was transported back to that horrific night when I was attacked outside the grocery store. The evilness glaring at me now had been staring salaciously over me then. The sound of my blouse being wrenched open, while another hand strangled my throat filled my mind. I hadn't been able to breathe or scream that night, and now it felt as if it were happening to me all over again.

"I came here to _kill _you, Stephanie."

Joe's malicious reminder of where I was and what I was supposed to be doing snapped me back to the present. Disoriented and ready to pass out, a part of me knew I couldn't allow it, yet my senses were caught somewhere between present and past.

Joe's life depended on me staying focused. It wasn't the same pair of eyes. It _couldn't_ be. The mask had merely thrown me for a loop.

I centered myself on Joe. His velvety chocolate eyes filled with concern, because he knew me so well. Our code word to abort the mission was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't do that to him. No way in hell!

"Wh-why!" I asked pleadingly.

Stalling for time, I backed toward the sofa. The explosion by the elevator would go off on Joe's command.

"What did I ever do to you, Morelli?" my voice trembled both from the current situation as well as the memory. "I know we've had our differences, but —"

"Enough with the talk. Do it!" the masked man's nettling voice ordered impatiently.

Gun raised, Joe took a few steps toward me.

"Wait! We've known each other since we were kids, Joe. I loved you once. You know I never meant to hurt you. Why would you do this to me?"

"I don't have time for this bullshit, Stephanie!" Joe flexed his arm as if ready to shoot.

"Bullshit? This is my life! What in God's name is wrong with you?"

"You've had it coming for a long time, Cupcake. I'm just doing what I've been commanded to do. As usual, you've made another enemy."

Hearing his voice use my nickname gave me a jolt of adrenaline.

"Who wants me dead?" I demanded.

"We do!" The masked man's guttural voice sent shivers coursing up my back.

_I had to keep it together!_ He _wasn't_ the same guy. I was only imagining his haunting voice sounding familiar. Maybe I was more stressed about all this 'cloak and dagger' stuff than I'd realized.

"Shoot her now, or I'll do it for you," he ordered impatiently.

Joe's steely gaze and tone kept me in the present.

"It's my life or yours, Cupcake, and even though I'm not having much of one right now—I intend to in the future, so _you're it_!"

His armed hand rose locking me in at point blank range. I knew that 'you're it' was the signal. Catapulting toward him, I round kicked the gun out of his hand, sending it sailing across the room. I dove for 'my' gun, and we began the never practiced, and only verbally instructed, choreographed fight for control of the weapon. Simultaneously, a thundering explosion went off in the hall. The added flash of the electrical power blinking repeatedly gave off a strobe like effect, making the whole situation even more surreal than it already was.

"Jesus Christ!" Joe's evil companion yelled, wrenching open the door to the hallway.

"Go check that out, damn it!" Joe shouted, as we continued our weapon tug-of-war. "I'm not going down for this! Fuck! If this is some kind of double-cross, you're a dead man!"

Smoke curled around the door. Joe gave me one last deeply loving look, and I returned it when he mouthed the word 'soon'. That look was going to have to last me until the day he was free to return to me. In that moment were a million kisses and all his love. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and never let go.

Then he pulled the trigger. Repeatedly, the blood packets burst. The force of the blanks hitting the vest made it easy to fall backward with a long, guttural scream, followed by deep, rasping moans that faded off into dead silence. All the years of playing cops and robbers had paid off. I knew how to stagger, tumble and die with the best of them.

**Joe's POV**

That look in Stephanie's eyes right before I shot her was filled with so much trust and love it had nearly taken my breath away.

Pulling a trigger on her was by far the worst thing I'd ever been forced to do in my life. Not having loaded the gun myself, there'd been that minuscule doubt the gun was filled with blanks. My head knew one thing, but my heart hadn't believed it completely. The way Stephanie fell and moaned in pain was all too real.

My disguised companion came rushing back in, viewing the scene and my hand still grasping the emptied gun.

"Fuck! I missed it? Something electrical blew out there. Shitty old building." He thumbed his gloved hand at the hall. "How many shots did you fire?"

"Whole magazine," I said in a tone void of emotion, while my stomach did acid-propelled cartwheels.

"Did you check her pulse?"

Expecting to have to verify my success, I got down on my knees and bent low over her body to touch her beautiful neck.

"I love you, Cupcake," I whispered, and then turning quickly, rose to my feet.

"What did you say?" he demanded threateningly.

"I said she's ready for a wake."

"No pulse? You sure?"

"She's dead," I answered, flatly. My gut twisted rebelliously at the words. "I worked homicide for years. You think I don't know when someone is dead?"

Sirens sounded in the distance, and our eyes darted between the window and each other.

"We better get the hell out of here. Someone might've called the police over that noise in the hallway," I warned, hoping to get him to move.

"I need to check and make sure she's gone. Blutto doesn't trust you, and neither do I."

Sirens sounded more loudly as they grew closer.

"You're questioning me? You think _I_ want to be dead?" I cried. "Blutto and I have plans! Look, if we don't get the hell out of here, we'll both be in a cell forever!"

He ignored me, and I wished I had the real weapon in my hand fully loaded. Nothing would've pleased me more than to take that asshole out.

He bent over Stephanie's body. To my horrified shock, he wound one curl around his finger before caressing her hair familiarly as though he'd been doing it for years. Leaning in further, he then kissed her lips passionately.

_Oh shit! What the fuck was he doing, touching Stephanie like he had some God given right?_

I wanted to pound him into the ground. How dare he lay a hand on her! My blood boiled, and it was all I could do not to strangle him with my bare hands.

"She's still warm," he uttered in crazed wonder.

"That's because I just killed her, you moron!" Forcing my rage aside, I bent over his crouched form and tugged on his black sweatshirt. "Sorry to break-up your little love-fest, but we gotta get the hell out of here!"

"She's much more tempting when she's subdued."

His fingers traveled to Stephanie's chest, crawling along the cleavage that peaked through her open jacket. If he felt the Kevlar vest, we'd both be dead.

Fisting the back of his sweatshirt in my hand, I yanked him forcefully to his feet.

"Sirens! We're going to get caught if we don't move!" My eyes reflecting urgency, I gauged the distance to the real gun along with the time it would take to grab it and end his perverted existence for good.

He knocked me in the chest.

"Back off! I want a little more time with her," he insisted, totally enthralled with our victim.

"She's DEAD not subdued, asshole! YOUR time is up! The cops are coming, and I'm NOT going down for this alone!"

Picturing the bloody pulp he'd be if I could have my way, I jerked him away from her forcefully, lugged him all the way down the stairs and shoved him out onto the street. The idea of him kissing or touching any part of Stephanie sent white-hot fury coursing through me. That was the closest I'd come to blowing the whole fucking operation since it began.

**Steph's POV**

_Holy shit! What in the hell had THAT been about?_

_Sick bastard_. I could only imagine Joe's fury over anyone touching me like that. Thank God my mother had forced me to take swimming lessons as a kid. They'd helped me to hold my breath moments ago until my lungs had felt like bursting.

The door opened and shut. _What if they were coming back?_ Playing possum again, I only relaxed as the scent of the new, weird-smelling shower gel told me Ranger had arrived.

"It's okay, ghost. Time to rise from the crypt," he said lightly.

"Is Joe okay?"

"He and his sidekick took off in the same car they came in. He's fine. You did good."

He bent at the waist and offered me a hand.

"You okay? No bruising or anything?"

Slowly rising to my feet, I did a quick surveillance and, seeing no holes, forced a wobbly smile.

"I'm good."

I don't know if it was from holding my breath too long or the aftershocks of what had just transpired, but my body wavered slightly. Ranger caught me, and I held onto him and his strength for a moment. Patting my back awkwardly, he tried to offer comfort, while I regained composure and balance.

"What's this?" He released me to swoop something off the floor—a business card that was partially stained in make believe blood.

My mouth fell open.

"Holy shit!" I breathed.

The symbol on the business card was as clear as day only this time there was no torn corner.

"Look's familiar." Ranger stated, keeping one hand on my elbow to steady me.

"Jackal! Omigod—Joe's babysitter just now _was _my stalker?"

I managed to stifle the scream itching to explode from my throat, even as nausea washed through me.

"Looks that way." Ranger's voice was calm, but the vein pulsing in his throat belied his anger.

I put a hand over my mouth.

"Joe's in horrible danger. The man is a maniac; he might kill him!"

Overcome with fear, I realized the sleazy lips that had touched mine were the same as the beast from the grocery store. My instincts had been dead on as usual. Those _were _the eyes of my attacker—the eyes of the most sinister man I'd ever encountered, and Joe was alone with him and weaponless.

**Ranger's POV**

I needed to get Stephanie, who'd been thrown for a loop, settled into her safe house as soon as possible. And then, as much as I wanted to avoid Meg, I had to get to Morelli's house to apprise her of the latest developments. Now that we knew the stalker was totally connected to this whole operation, she needed to be forearmed and ready to defend herself. No doubt she'd be in his sights again.

I didn't even want to think about how it would feel be near her after the way things had ended. I doubt she'd want me around either. But I wasn't letting anyone else handle her safety, and nothing she could do or say would stop that.

Loving her wasn't turning out to be so easy to stop either.

"I know this is a lot to absorb, Stephanie, but it's all good. Morelli did Blutto's dirty work. There's no reason for anyone to kill him. He's more valuable alive than dead."

"I know." Doubt laced her voice.

"We need to get you to that safe house, Babe."

I handed her heavy denim overalls to put over her stained clothing. She scurried into them knowing we couldn't afford to waste a minute. No one could see her alive, and the cops needed to get in to tape off the crime scene before elderly tenants returned home and started butting their noses in where they didn't belong.

Pulling an evidence bag from my coat, I pocketed the card. "I doubt there's a print."

"He was wearing gloves," she verified.

"I have no doubt he left his calling card on purpose. He would've when he attacked Meg too, but he didn't have time. He's proud of his work—likes to show off." I eyed her speculatively. "How did it get on the floor? Did he check your pulse?"

**Steph's POV**

"Not exactly."

My throat caught on a sob as I remembered his lips pushing into mine, his snake-like fingers caressing my hair. I needed a shower desperately. Mercifully, my mind turned to the feel of Joe's fingers on my neck and his breath whispering his love for me into my hair.

Ranger's hand fisted. "What happened? You need to tell me everything."

"He—he bent over my body and kissed me on the lips—said he liked me subdued and wanted to stay longer. Joe pulled him off me and forced him to leave." My eyes burned with rage as I relived the moments.

"Fucking pervert," Ranger growled. "He'll never touch you or Meg again."

"I know, but—" My throat hitched. "He's with Joe."

"Morelli knows what he's doing."

"Yes, but what if Joe figures it out? I don't think he be able to stop from killing him if he knew."

Ranger paused to consider my implication. "You think he might?"

"I don't know," I confessed nervously. "Like you've always said, he's a good cop, but if I know him, he's going to put two and two together. I'm afraid—"

"He won't let it take him over—no matter how much he might want to," Ranger assured comfortingly.

I took a steadying breath. "You're right. He'll play it smart and safe. We've got too much to lose."

He squeezed my arm gently. "Ready to go."

"Yeah."

"The minute Joe is back in prison I'll get word to you. It's going to be fine."

"Fine," I echoed vaguely, taking one last, longing look at my apartment.

"Don't worry. It'll be good as new when you come back."

"I'm not coming back. I'll be with Joe." My voice held a resolve that I think surprised both of us.

Leaving nothing to chance, we took the stairs to Ranger's black SUV. I had no idea where I was being taken, but as we drove a familiar path, it became obvious.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. My safe house was the same place Joe and I had last been together. Walking in there gave me a strange sort of comfort. Knowing it was the location of our most intimate encounter as well as our heart-wrenching goodbye caused my throat to burn and my memories to go into overdrive.

It was like a montage of us.

The echo of him yelling at me accusingly 'You stole my Ducati?' filled the air as I remembered how his flesh had melted into mine in passionate reunion. Angrily fighting and yet so turned on by one another, we'd lost control in our need to become one again desperately.

Everything filtered through my brain in quick succession—removing the wedding ring from his finger, finding out he had been free to be with me all along, loving and being loved by him completely, telling him how much I wanted to have his baby and feeling mesmerized by his beautiful brown eyes that had been shocked first, but then had softened to chocolate decadence. The slow burgeoning smile as he'd fully comprehended my intention—God, how I wished he were there with me again.

"I wasn't sure—" Ranger's voice dropped apologetically, brining me back to present circumstances.

"It's good."

He nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Everything's stocked. The FBI and my men will be here around the clock for you. Take this and use it if you need anything."

He handed me a burner phone and a silver watch that he explained was wired with a panic button and tracker linked to Rangeman. He also handed me my fully loaded gun.

"No cookie jar or cubby holes. This is by your side at all times," he instructed, eyebrow arching. His mouth tilted up slightly. "These are BAD guys. No taking chances. You want anything—especially more chocolate—I'll get it to you."

"You might as well place the order. I'll need another shipment if this doesn't end soon."

"The terrace has double reinforced locks. The alarm system is exactly the same as when you were here before, but we changed the pass codes. They are on the counter. You need to lock up after I go and reset it. No venturing out to the terrace." He paused. "I know it's hard, but Stephanie—"

"I get it. I'll follow orders."

"Good." He seemed relieved. Taking a deep breath, he led me to the bank of electronic equipment set up on the east living room wall. "Webcam."

I looked at him quizzically.

"A little gift from Morelli to you. Your parents know everything. He insisted they not be put through your mock death. It took some doing, but they've been cleared."

"They know? Joe did that?" My heart did a little jump and roll.

He nodded.

"They're up to date on the latest and have agreed to put on the 'grieving' parents act publically. Turn on the camera as soon as I leave. We have them in a secret location. It was too risky to bring them to you or have anything set up at their house. I'm sorry, but it's a one-time thing, and you have to keep it brief."

"Thank you! I couldn't even imagine what it would've done to them. This is so much better."

"Good."

"What about my grandmother?"

"She's on a little unexpected trip she won with a couple of her friends to a remote island where international news or communications of any kind is completely unavailable," he explained, trying not to gloat with his brilliance.

"Jeez, the only thing missing is some hot studs to keep the old girls happy. Are you planning to join them?" I teased him.

His mouth quirked up even as his eyes registered horror.

I grinned fully for the first time. "Not your type, huh? Too much energy for you? Worried you wouldn't keep up?"

"You're a laugh riot."

"Couldn't resist. Seriously, good call getting her out of here. She's a terror at funerals."

"I know, and yours is going to be closed casket." He shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips.

We both knew a locked box never kept Grandma out.

"Thanks," I said sincerely.

"All in a day's work."

"Uh-huh." Strangely, that was probably true to a certain extent.

"I need to get going. I have to make sure Meg knows about Joe's surprise sidekick, and how he's connected to everything. She's in even more danger than we thought. And your parents are waiting."

"You sure you don't want to stick around and shoot the breeze with Mom and Dad?"

Ranger's face looked greenish. "I'd rather take my chances with Meg."

"Coward!"

He walked toward the door and motioned to the locks and security panel as he left. I quickly did as instructed and then took a deep breath to prepare myself for whatever reaction my poor parents were bound to have.

Turning on the computer, I hoped for the best. My eyes stung as soon as they came into view, and I smiled. _God, I'd been homesick!_ _Who knew you could actually grow up someday and realize your parents meant more than you ever imagined._ I'd missed them way more than the pineapple upside-cake, though I wouldn't have minded a nice wedge of that too right about then.

"Stephanie!" my mom called out as if I'd just entered her kitchen after being gone for months.

"Hi Mom. Hi Dad." I did a little finger wave, wondering why I felt a little like a delinquent teenager.

"Oh darling, this is so—are you okay—how is Joe? The poor man—he's going through hell! Why didn't you tell us you were being stalked?"

As usual the questions fired out. But this time I heard the love behind them, and I saw it clearly shining in my mother's eyes.

"Hey, Jelly D—miss you," Dad said softly. He mustered a phony smile. I could hear the unspoken concern in his voice.

"I miss you guys too! I'm fine. Well-protected, I promise. I'm so sorry you have to go along with this. I know it's going to be murder on all of you, and Val won't know—or Mare. Please understand if there were any other way—"

"We do understand," they answered in perfect unison.

"We're so proud of you and Joe," Mom gushed.

"Thank you."

"You two make quite a team," Dad added.

Thinking of my Morelli, I smiled proudly. "We do."

"He'll be back with you soon, Stephanie, safe and sound," my mother assured me.

"I know." _God, if my mother says it's so, it's Burg law. You have to make it happen!_

"You guys I know the next few days are going to be really hard. And I'm sorry, I wish I was there. Ironic isn't it? But if there was any way I could help you get through it—"

"We're going to be fine. We've got this, after everything you two have been through, it's the least we can do." Dad's calming presence always helped me. "You stay safe Jelly D and don't you worry about anything. Everyone will understand when this is over—you had no choice," Daddy advised me wisely.

"I just want this nightmare to end so you both can come to dinner on Friday's where you belong at our table with the family."

"Nothing sounds better mom."

"We'll be praying for you both." I could feel her reluctance to end our transmission. I felt it too.

"If you need anything from us, Sugar, just get us a message."

"You're doing exactly what I need you to do. Love you, can't wait to see you again."

"Love you so much, Stephanie. Hugs and kisses, dear—"

The screen went black, and I felt more alone than I had the entire time I'd been at Rangeman.

Looking around the loft once again, I still half expected to see Joe coming out of the shower or standing at the kitchen counter winking at me. I hadn't even had time yet to relish that one short moment with him in the apartment. His mouthed "soon" played over in my head. _Had I conveyed all that love back to him?_ _How had I ever thought my life would work without him in it for even a second?_ The only thing I wanted was him there with me.

**Meg's POV**

The days seemed interminably long. I missed having Bob and Rex with me, and I wondered if I'd get them any time soon. Rangeman had to be spread pretty far and thin with so many jobs to cover. I couldn't imagine they were enjoying animal detail on top of it.

Trying to focus on anything but my loneliness, my mind behaved like a boomerang. All it did was return images of Carlos' face, eyes and hands. _God, I missed him!_ I'd thought withdrawal would be fast and easy after the way things ended, but it was a slow torturing process, and now I wondered if it would ever end.

Leaving the bathroom, I walked through the master bedroom knowing I'd better eat something soon. Just then, the oven timer rang. My body jolted, and a soft scream escaped as I ran into Carlos' hard, unyielding chest.

Jumping back, I wasn't sure he was real. My mind, heart and soul were in such turmoil that I wasn't sure of anything anymore.

"What in the hell are you doing here?" _Had I manifested him merely by missing him like hell? _

"Business. And why didn't you know I _was _here?" His voice was leaden hard. "I could've been anyone."

"Don't turn this on me! You had no right to slink in that way! Have you ever heard of using the fucking doorbell?"

"I can't be seen at 'Kate Morelli's' house now, can I? What would the neighbors think? You're supposed to be ready for anything. What if I'd been the stalker?"

"The way you slither around, I'm beginning to think you are!" Heading down the stairs fast as I could, I wanted nothing more than to end the proximity to him while warring and wishing at the same time I could grab him, push him against the wall and make his hardened heart go back to soft with a storm of passionate kisses.

Grabbing the oven door open to remove the frozen meal, I totally forgot it would be piping hot. My mind registered my burning hands, and I dropped the tray back onto the rack with a clanging thud.

"Damn it!"

My hands hurt like hell, but NO way would he be allowed to see my pain—not the burns, not the heartache and certainly not the deep connection I felt to him forever lodged inside me.

"What the hell are you doing? Why are you so off your game?" Ranger demanded.

Grabbing my elbow, he marched me to the sink and hit the spigot to run cold water over my hands. His gentle touch wasn't lost on me and never had I needed it more. He'd take care of me; he'd be there for me if I told him how much I needed and loved him. God knows it'd be so much easier.

But he'd also go away and leave me, and because of that I had to stay strong. It was better for us both. There was no other answer.

"I'm fine."

"I see how fine you are."

His deducing eyes bored into mine. Then, moving to the freezer, he pulled out a bag of ice, grabbed a dishtowel and wrapped up the ice cubes before settling me onto a kitchen chair.

"Sit still," he ordered, sensing my desire to bolt.

He headed upstairs, and moments later, I heard him shuffling through cupboards and drawers. He returned with bandaging material and burn ointment.

Silently applying the ointment to my hands, he bandaged first one and then the other. I kept my face averted, knowing that if I took one look into his eyes, I'd be lost.

He busied himself by turning off the oven and pulling out a couple of potholders from the drawer nearby to deftly remove the scalding meal. Grabbing a plate and silverware from the drainer, he dished up food for me. _What the hell was this? Why was he being so nice? _

He grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge. Opening it, he poured two glasses and sat across from me with a perusing gaze.

_Was he missing me as much as I missed him?_

"What are you doing here, Ranger?"

"Business like I said."

"What business? Couldn't you have just called?" Despite my irritation, I forced myself to take in a forkful of food.

"'Operation Initiation' went down a few hours ago."

"I know. I heard everything went well for both Morelli and Stephanie. I don't need a face to face report."

My scathing feelings about him being there weren't hidden. I wanted him gone.

"Nice seeing you too, Meg," he jeered. "You think I want to be here?"

It stung to hear him admit it.

"Then just get the hell out!"

His eyes were black, angry orbs as he set his glass down.

"Stephanie is in her safe location. Morelli is in a warehouse north of the prison, apparently bunking down for the night."

"Good. You could have called."

"I need to tell you something, and you're going to listen."

"Whatever the hell you're here for make it quick. I'm tired and I—"

Impatient and so damn weary of trying to pretend having him there wasn't affecting me in the least, I was failing miserably at remaining impassive. My still smarting hands were another reminder of how thrown off I was. _Why in the hell was the timing in my life such a constant joke?_ _Why had I ever let him back INTO my life?_ Now everything was so much more complicated than I'd ever imagined.

Feeling badly about my outburst, I forced my emotions away and went back to business mode.

"What is it I need to know that couldn't be relayed in a simple message?"

"The man sent to accompany Morelli on the hit was the same one that attacked you and Stephanie."

I dropped my fork.

"Wait—what? He's the stalker? Why wasn't I told sooner?" Anger tangled with fear.

"I informed the Bureau I'd apprise you personally of the situation."

"How do _you_ know? I heard he wore a mask."

"He left the same calling card as the night in the parking lot. It wasn't a gang logo. It wasn't 'Jack or black'. It was Jackal Electronics. Whoever this guy is, he's up to his neck with Blutto. It's all connected."

Ranger's fingers gripped the wine stem so tightly; I thought surely the glass would shatter.

"You're not safe," he continued harshly. "And when he figures out you're Morelli's wife and not a visiting dancer friend of Steph's, you'll be at the top of his list. He'll hate that he was deceived, and he'll want revenge."

My throat knotted. I couldn't speak.

"Meg, say something."

"It's just—" My voice faltered momentarily. "This never ends. We think we know all the players, and then it twists and turns again. My God, why can't it just be over?" I forced my shoulders back. "Let the bastard come after me! I want him to, and the sooner, the better!"

"Maybe we should take you off this. I'm considering all the angles, and once the stalker figures you are Morelli's wife he'll be questioning everything—what you were doing in Stephanie's apartment and why you lied." He eyed me closely. "Face it. Your cover will be blown. I'm thinking that bagging your end of the operation might be prudent."

"NO!"

I jumped up, realizing I'd been wishing for just that. I wanted so badly to quit and go home. But having Ranger order me to do it made me see red. He didn't get to dictate _anything_ in my life.

Not anymore.

"Drink your wine. You've gone pale." He pointed to it as if he expected my compliance.

"I'm fine, and I don't need any goddamned wine! I'm a trained professional. I don't need _you_ or anyone one else to take care of me, and certainly not decide my life!" I waved a hand at him dismissively. "I've got this, Ranger, so just stop with the over-protective bullshit. And the next time there's a development on this case inform my superior. I'll deal with him exclusively. Now, if you'll excuse me I have things to do."

Eating was no longer one of them as my stomach was nothing but a twisted, emotional mess.

Grabbing my arm, he stopped me cold. "You forget, I'm the man in charge, and I'll see to you and your safety the way I see fit."

I felt my breath quicken. "You're such a damned mule!"

"What else is going on, Meg?" he asked, reading me too well. "You're not on point. I can see you're distracted."

The words burst forth before I could stop them.

"It's too damned quiet here! I need Bob back, so I can take him for walks. You know, Stephanie wanted them to have real care, not just a token outing and mandatory food and water."

"No. You can't risk taking the dog for walks," he said firmly. Seeing my face, he conceded, "You can have Rex."

"They shouldn't be separated." _What the hell was I talking about?_ It wasn't like they were humans or even knew the other existed. It sounded ridiculous, even to me.

"Rex or nothing."

"Isn't the idea to have that asshole seek me out? I need to be seen out and in the open. Besides, Bob would be some protection."

Ranger snorted. "That piece of blubbering carpet!"

"Get me the dog and the hamster—that's all I need from you. Can you at least do that for me?"

_What a lie._ I'd never needed him more! Just when I thought my nightly pillow soakings were done—they'd be starting all over again for a long time to come.

He shook his head in exasperation. "Fine. I'll have them delivered to you tomorrow. One indication—even a glimmer that anything is out of place here—a noise—a creak on the step—you phone it in. Don't take any chances. Do you understand?"

"I know my job."

He stood and locked eyes with mine, allowing the mask to fall for a second. It was long enough to see he still loved me as deeply as I loved him. I wanted to end the feud. I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me. My body ached to, but I simply couldn't. Carlos and I were over. And nothing would change that.

**Joe's POV**

I wasn't surprised to find that I'd be spending the night close to NJSP. The abandoned warehouse was hidden off the main highway—a perfect place to store the guns and ammo being smuggled into the prison. It made sense they'd bring them there to wait for shipments to arrive, load in the contraband and bring it the rest of the way to the prison. I suspected the Feds had searched for such a place but had come up empty. Maybe at the time they'd found this one it'd appeared deserted. The thieves were clever and timed all their activities down to the minutest detail. Not that it would serve them in the end. We had them. It was only a matter of time.

My gracious host shoved me inside and locked the door behind us. He stood there staring at me as though he wasn't sure what to do next.

"You're staying here for the night. At the change of shift tomorrow, you'll enter prison again. Don't get any funny ideas about escaping. You're going back. Blutto's orders."

"I figured."

He snorted. "What'd you expect—a 'get out of jail free' card?"

"I never asked for that, and why the hell don't you take off your mask now. No one's here to see you."

"You are. And unless you want an untimely demise, you'd better hope I leave it on."

"Why? We're on the same side."

"I prefer my anonymity."

"Suit yourself. Is there any chow around here?"

"Sandwiches and drinks are in the fridge," he offered ungraciously before plopping down on one of the cots.

"So how'd you end up on Blutto's team?" I asked casually.

"You ask too many questions."

"Habit. Years of being a cop, you know."

"Get over it."

I grabbed a sandwich—not that I was hungry. I kept seeing Steph on the floor of her apartment. By now she should be in her safe place, and in the meantime, I needed to get past this slimy jerk having touched and kissed her, which was far easier said than done.

"I got things to do," the loser announced. "You'll be locked in this room. Someone will be here to get you in the morning.

"Not you?"

"I went along to make sure you did the job, plus I needed to see her—" He cut himself off, but he'd clearly revealed more than he intended. "It's done and such a waste—a shame really. She was beautiful."

He walked out, shutting the door behind him, and I heard the hard click as he turned the key.

It was going to be a very long night. Seeing Stephanie again and being so damned close had been friggin' torture. But God, it'd been good to see her. Having been cut off from her for so long, I'd gotten a dose of what it felt like to be sensory deprived. Every part of me had shut down in some capacity from not being near her for months on end. And now, having felt a brief glimpse of the aliveness of being with her again, I wanted it back—yesterday.

I was proud of her. I'd seen the way her eyes had blanked out and figured it was hard seeing a masked man standing in her apartment after that dreaded encounter with her stalker. _What the hell had Blutto's sidekick been thinking?_

Shit!

It played over for the hundredth time in my head.

_He didn't know her, did he? He couldn't. No, he was just a demented and twisted freak. But then, so was her stalker—Meg's stalker. _

_Oh my God! _

_It couldn't be._

_But what other explanation made sense? No wonder I wanted to kill him for touching her._

There was NOTHING I could do. If my suspicions were true, I had to play the game and pretend I knew nothing. But that meant everything was somehow connected—Blutto's obsession, the stalker's sick, psycho behavior—it was all intertwined in some way. But How? Why?

_Oh God, poor Stephanie! Did she know? Had she smelled it when he leaned over her body. How in God's name had she not screamed when his lips touched hers?_

She wasn't having a flashback because of the mask. She was having a memory of the same man who had attacked her. And somehow she'd pulled herself away from it for me.

My heart palpitated with the idea of her having to endure his disgusting hands and lips touching her. My palms became sweaty, and I knew if he'd been there with me in that moment of realization, he'd be dead.

My hands were tied until my return to the prison. I needed to get messages out to the bureau, Ranger and most of all Stephanie.

The good news was when we got Blutto we'd be killing two Vultures with one very big boulder. Stephanie would be free of them once and for all. After that, nothing and no one would ever touch her again. That was a vow I intended to keep.

I forced my mind to other thoughts to slow down my anger and de-elevate my blood pressure. The minute we were done with this mess our lives would reset and we'd have a new beginning—the life we were meant to have.

It was past nine. Damn! I hadn't been alone. But I was now, and I knew she'd feel me as I always felt her.

_Cupcake, killing you really sucked. You know I'd never harm a hair on your beautiful head. I miss you. After seeing you like that, I realized even more how empty life is without you every day. I know this is supposed to be mushy, suggestive and loving, but I need to warn you that you're in grave danger. The man with me was your stalker, Stephanie. Whatever was happening to you when you saw him in that mask was real. If I had known then, he'd be dead. Be very careful and watch your back. Even in the safe house, you need to take precautions. This is getting close. I can feel it. Stay alert and aware. No foolish chances. We're going to be together soon. I promise you that. Love you with everything I am. _

**Steph's POV**

_Oh shit. _It was past nine, and I'd missed Morelli time_._ It didn't matter. He had to know my thoughts were with him no matter the time or place.

_Joe, I'm missing you so damned much! I don't know how I'm going to get through this loneliness after seeing you today. You were so near me that I wanted to devour every inch of you! Shit Morelli, look how mushy you've made me. This isn't good. I'm not a marshmallow. I'm a beam of Jersey steel! But I'm getting soft from needing you so much. Celibacy is wearing thin, and I'm so over it! I feel like engineering a prison break and whisking you away to that island Grandma is on. We'd make good use of that 'no communications paradise'. I don't know if you figured it out yet, but you need to be careful and control your Italian temper when you do. Your sidekick was my stalker! God, I want to get out of here and go after him! Kicking him in the nuts would feel so good. I'm not used to all this inactivity, and it's driving me up the wall. The only good thing about this overload of stored energy is how explosive it will be the moment we reunite. Watch out, Morelli—you'd better be up for it! Love you like crazy. Be safe._

**Joe's POV**

I never expected to be happy to re-enter the walls of NJSP. The transition went off without a hitch, and by seven the following morning, I was back in my tiny cell surrounded by concrete and bars.

Shortly after my arrival, we were herded to breakfast. Hoping to have a chance to let Tank in on my suspicions regarding the stalker and to glean any new information he had about the planned prison breakout, we bided our time and ate slowly, waiting for the other prisoners to finish and begin the process of returning to their cells. Finally, we stood at the back of the line to dispose of our dirty dishes.

"I have news from Ranger," Tank mouthed in something under a whisper.

"He knows about my henchman being the stalker?"

"You know?" Tank asked, somewhat surprised. "Ranger knows too. He left the calling card."

My mouth dropped open. "I want to kill the son of a bitch."

"I don't blame you. I'd have helped." Tank's eyes were sympathetic.

"Does our bird know?"

"Yes."

"SHIT!" I felt helpless being there. I wanted to protect Stephanie and felt even more torn than usual about it.

"She's in the cage. No one will bother her."

"Does my 'wife' know?"

"Yes. Also fine."

"Any news on the big party they're planning here?"

"Not a peep."

"Nothing from Tad?"

"If there is, he's not telling any of us. He prefers talking to you. He's quite a character."

"He might have something. He's been trying to catch my eye all through breakfast."

"Obvious?"

"Only to me. Funny faces and crazy ass eyebrows."

"I'm to tell you that progress is being made on his case, and Ranger said the little pipsqueak is full of surprises. Do you know what that means?"

"No, but he has been so far. And I'm glad for his sake he'll be free—that is if he makes it out of here alive."

"Nothing you say changes his mind."

"Nope—he's a mystery. I'm not sure if he's part crazy or merely has an adventurous spirit. Either way, I don't want anything bad to happen to him."

"We have his back."

I nodded.

"Nothing else going on here. Just another day in paradise," Tank observed dryly.

I laughed, as we discarded our waste into the communal dumpster.

As expected, during our afternoon outing in the yard, Tad yanked on my shirt.

Looking down at him, I was surprised to feel an almost affectionate annoyance.

"Got to talk."

"Meet me after the yard—the usual place," I said.

He sort of hopped-skipped away from me, and I tried not to smile.

To my surprise, when I made my way into 'our stall', Tad was already crouched on the toilet. Feet straddling the bowl, he looked very much like a scrawny frog ready to burst if he couldn't 'ribbit' soon.

"What do you know?" I demanded.

"Not a lot. But there's been a lot of hand signals going back and forth."

"Hand signals?"

"You know—Blutto pointing to the guard of his choice and then whispering orders. It's being going on steady for the last two days. By the way, where the hell did you go? Were you off doing some undercover work somewhere else? How the heck did you get away? Are the feds in on this?"

"That's not important. You didn't say anything to anyone did you?"

"Of course not!" he groused, obviously offended. "I'm on your side!"

"I know, but you _have _to be careful. I can't stress it enough. More is going on. I wish I could convince you to stop, Tad, because you're risking your life. There's no doubt in my mind."

It had to be said no matter how much I needed his help.

"I know that. Ya think I'm stupid? I'm educated. I'm a lot smarter than anyone gives me credit for. You'll see someday—if we both make it out of here alive."

"I can't think about that right now. Have you heard anything at all about another breakout?"

"No, well—I don't think—" He paused to collect his thoughts. "Would they use code words?"

"Yes." My heart immediately started beating.

"Huh. Do you think they'd be talking about something like a card game and mean something else?"

"What did they say?" I asked impatiently.

"They said the King trumps the jack, and the queen had to be dealt with." He squiggled his face. "I've never heard poker terms like that."

"What else did you hear?"

"That there's a full house—and they are going to be all out soon. That the—oh damn—it was something about an army of jacks wouldn't stop the players, and that—uh—they'd be having a tournament in two weeks."

My mouth dropped. "Tad, you're a freakin' Godsend!"

"I am?" He puffed up in stature. "You don't say."

"You are! Anything else?"

"Well—there was some laughter, and then they started talking about Chess."

"Tell me."

"They said the pawn wouldn't know he was being used. He'd be taken out by the King, and the Knight was going to help make it all happen. Said there was another queen that had to be dealt with? Back to the card analogy again—weird, huh."

"Queens are in Chess and cards, and so are Kings." I mused.

Whatever it meant, moves were being plotted.

"Okay, listen to me. Anything you hear about involving two week from now—card games, chess—_anything_—I have to know. But you must be discreet. You got that? Your case has been reopened, and it's looking good. You have things to live for, Tad. Don't take any chances. Our eyes are on you."

"Okay, Joe. I promise. I did good," he murmured in wonder.

"You did fantastic!"

After Tad left, and I gave him time to return to the population before making my exit, I stood there realizing that in two more weeks this was would be over. They thought they'd taken Stephanie out, which was a good thing, but they had plans for Meg and me. I wasn't surprised Blutto planned to kill me, only it wasn't happening, because I intended to get him first.

Checkmate asshole!

**Stephanie's POV**

The next day I forced myself from the loneliness by doing research on Blutto that netted me a dead end. I found nothing new from before and was feeling pretty discouraged. I was also trying to do everything in my power to avoid thinking of my stalker—Blutto's henchman. I just couldn't face it yet. I knew I'd have to force my mind back to it eventually. I needed to push myself to connect those dots to remember anything I possibly could.

My brain needed a break from the Blutto related research. During our drive to the safe house, Ranger had clued me in on the little man in prison who'd been helping Morelli—Thadeous Peabody. Ranger had told me the story of his wrongful imprisonment, and Morelli's request of Ranger to get the ball rolling to free an innocent man. It warmed my heart to know Joe had another friend in prison, and it made me smile to know that Tad had sought Joe out. Knowing the comfort Joe exuded just by his presence, I could understand Tad's hope that he'd receive help from him.

Joe read people well, and he believed Tad was innocent. I had to see for myself what he looked like. Grinning as he came alive for me on the monitor, I took in his wizened, wrinkled face and the twinkling gray eyes. He reminded me of a combination of an eccentric, little man and a childish rascal. He had a nice smile too, and I got a good feeling as I clicked on more pictures. When he was freed, he'd be getting a huge kiss of appreciation right on the lips, because any friend of Joe's was a friend of mine.

Clicking on another page to see if I could find more information, my mouth dropped open in shocked amazement. Double-checking my research, I verified that the Thadeous I was looking at had indeed been a twin of a brother who was now deceased. I saw the clippings and reports of Tad's criminal activity, and I wondered in awe if Joe had any idea of whom he was dealing with?

After dinner, I found myself unusually tired and turned in somewhat early after I mind-messaged Joe. I'd gotten word that he was back behind bars, and I knew things would intensify from here on out. Trying to push my fears aside, I focused on our future.

I didn't know what kind of wedding I even wanted anymore. I just wanted to be married. The wedding could be on a bluff in the wilderness or in outer space for all I cared just as long as Joe Morelli became mine once and for all.

I fell to sleep smiling about that happily ever after.

_I was running in a foggy, misted forest. My bare feet slipped and slid on the slippery ground. I was being chased. Why? Who wanted me dead? Was I already dead? I'd been shot. My subconscious was filled with confusion and webbed thoughts I couldn't make any sense of. Someone wanted me dead. I screamed for Joe, but suddenly he was lying on the ground in front of me—a bullet hole between his eyes and staring at me sightlessly. NO! God no! I heard the Jackal's cackling laughter approaching and then felt myself being lifted and hurled to the ground. Rain pounded over me, drenching me, but it wasn't rain—it was blood. Then, as he pounced on me, I heard his evil laughter. _

"_Yakkkkkkkkkkkkkkken." _

I woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed.

"Shit!"

I held my hand over my wildly drumming heart, and then I remembered.

I'd had a dream somewhat like this with a Jackal once before. I'd buried the memory in my sub-conscious mind—not after my attack at the grocery store but after my near attack somewhere else. _Where?_

_Omigod!_

Jackal.

It was him—the FTA wanted for stealing electronics.

Jackal electronics!

It was the _same_ man who'd tried to attack me when Lula and I went after him at his apartment months ago!

Oh Jesus!

The stalker, Blutto's henchman and that lunatic FTA were the same man. He'd come after me once I'd foiled his first attack. And now I knew not only his true identity, but the role he'd been playing in Blutto's maniacal plans.


End file.
